


As The Ink Dries

by ViciousVenin



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Alternate Universe - Career, Alternate Universe - Library, Bandom Big Bang, Bandom Big Bang 2018, Black Parade Era, Blow Jobs, Eventual Smut, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Librarians, Libraries, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Smut, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Workplace Relationship, but it IS resolved by the end, character's appearances based on..., it's spring/summer 2007 so they look like they did at that time, specifically projeckt revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViciousVenin/pseuds/ViciousVenin
Summary: Frank has a hard time not hating his job. He's so close to his dream of working as a reference librarian and yet, due to a few stupid choices, he's stuck doing processing and mending. Tasked with the same mind-numbing chores day after day, Frank feels he'll die of boredom -- that is, until Gerard is hired.





	As The Ink Dries

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! My first longer fic in FOREVER. Thank you all so much for being patient with me. School has been killing me this past semester and I haven't had the chance to write literally anything at all in months. But I am DONE with my undergrad in just a few weeks and will be back to writing as soon as possible. If you want to keep up with me or hound me for new material, you can find me [@viciousvenin](https://viciousvenin.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> So, the details of this fic are entirely based on my experiences working in public and college libraries, and all the gossip and drama is pulled from real things my coworkers have told me. I took some liberties of course. Berkeley did lose its accreditation for the library sciences program but I believe it was much earlier than this fic takes place, sometime in the 80s or 90s. Menders are much more respected than I make them out to be in this story, part of that being because it's a job very few people know how to do well. Also, the timeline is weird and unrealistic wrt how classes would be scheduled and professors selected. Very, very unrealistic. Sue me.
> 
> The setting for this story is somewhere in the Berkeley/Oakland/East Bay area of California in late spring/early summer of 2007. I envision the characters as looking like they did during that time when they were on the Projeckt Revolution tour.
> 
> Lastly, this fic is for Bandom Big Bang 2018 so I have lots of shout outs to give! Thank you to the mods for making all this happen, thank you to [@beneaththefoam](https://beneaththefoam.tumblr.com/) for the wonderful art pictured below, thank you to [corruptedkid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corruptedkid) and [sockpuppeteer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockpuppeteer) for being lovely betas and sounding boards throughout this process, and thank you to my girlfriend [picht](https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht) for being generally amazing.

The evil red light blinks back at Frank, mockingly. He nearly grabs the entire machine and throws it across the room for the satisfaction of seeing it smash to pieces, but he doesn’t. It's testing him. 

It's broken. Again. The coffee machine is _always_ broken, he knows this. But no matter how many times Frank walks into the staff lounge and presses the little silver button only to be greeted by a concerning grinding noise followed by a few clanks and that stupid red light, it still hurts. 

Frank sighs and places his mug back on the dish rack. He’s still got seven minutes left of his break and nothing to do with it. The staff lounge is empty except for him, thank God, but Frank’s not surprised. He always times his breaks when everyone else will still be working. But it doesn’t do him much good when there’s nothing to occupy his time. There’s not even coffee, for fuck’s sake. 

Sighing again, Frank leaves the lounge, flipping the light off as he goes. He takes the same route back to the processing room that he takes everyday: through the back hallways where no students will happen upon him, past Brian’s perpetually messy office, down the narrow staircase, and through the side door to the staff-only area. From staff-only room to staff-only room. These are the places in which Frank Iero lives his life. 

“Hey,” Bert greets Frank as he comes through the door. 

Frank nods in response and heads to his processing station. There’s a new stack of books that need mending sitting on his workbench when he gets there. On the outside, his expression doesn’t change, but on the inside, he’s rejoicing. 

Processing and cataloging is not a glamorous job no matter what library you work in, and mending is considered even lower than that. The funny thing is, very few people actually know how to do it. Properly, at least. So, as soon as Hilltop College got wind that Frank had experience mending books, that became part of his job description as well. Frank decided that, if he wasn’t going to be a reference librarian like he’d always wanted, he had better count doing grunt work that he actually _enjoys_ as a win. 

Using careful hands, he repairs the spine on the first book, not minding how the glue sticks to his fingers as he uses it to make the book whole once more. With the second book, he does what he can for its damaged pages, gently reattaching them where they’ve torn apart and then using a thin brush and his special ink to paint in the letters where they’d become illegible, lost in the ripped paper. The work comforts him, surrounds him like a warm hug, and he continues mending until every book in the pile is unrecognizable from when they were in their damaged state, save for the battle scars now tucked between their pages and buried under their spines. Before he knows it, his work is complete and it’s almost time for lunch. 

As always, Frank wishes he could just stay at his desk. 

At least the processing team gets a lunch hour to themselves, as the reference librarians have to stagger their lunches so they can continue serving the public without a lapse in coverage. Who knows what would happen if the two groups had to fight for space at the tables in the staff lounge. It’d probably end in a bloodbath, Frank thinks. 

“Dude,” Bert says as he falls in step beside Frank, extracting Cheez-its from a brown lunch bag and munching on them as they walk. “You seen the new guy yet?” 

“New guy?” Frank asks, confused. He likes Bert, but he knows Frank is never up to date on the latest gossip yet assumes he is anyway. 

“Yeah. In Special Collections.” Bert shoots Frank a look and raises his eyebrows twice, then laughs. “Flashy guy for a flashy job. Apparently, he’s some big-shot artist, and they think he’s qualified to be the curator.” 

“Huh,” Frank says. “Guess we’ll see.” 

Ray’s in the staff lounge when they get there, which is better than they could’ve asked for. Of the five reference librarians, Ray’s probably the only one who’s nice to the processing team. Frank feels a little bad for him, really, as he can’t act like he actually _likes_ any of them when his other colleagues around, or else he’d be booted from the cool kids’ club that is the reference librarian squad. But it’s good to know that they have someone on their side, at least when no one else is around. 

“Hey, man,” Frank says as he sits down next to Ray. “How’s it goin’?” 

Ray smiles tiredly. “Same old, same old. Kids who have no fucking idea how to write a research paper and we don’t even get coffee to deal with this shit.” 

“I feel ya, man. I mean, I don’t have to deal with them firsthand, but I see the shit they do to the books. It’s fucked up.” He says it just to agree with Ray and appear sympathetic, but really, he wishes he were in Ray’s shoes. Working with the public is what he’s always wanted out of his job, but instead he’s stuck in the back room with nothing but the books to keep him company. Not that he doesn’t like the books, it just gets a bit boring after a while. 

“Yeah… Well, I better get back. Gotta train the new guy on the check-out system just in case he ever has to actually do anything,” Ray says with an annoyed look. “See ya ‘round.” 

Frank nods at Ray as he leaves, and Bert takes his empty seat. Jamia sits down on Frank’s other side, and soon Jepha, Quinn, and Worm have all joined them around the table. Jamia proceeds to steal Frank’s chips and laugh at him while she holds them out of reach, while Jepha and Quinn challenge each other to a tickle fight. Or something like that. Worm sits at the table silently, looking dejected and obviously avoiding Bert’s gaze so he won’t start chatting away about macabre art or something Worm has told him on many occasions he would rather not discuss while eating. 

“Jams, for real,” Frank whines. “I need to eat. Give ‘em back.” 

“Okay, okay,” Jamia relents and hands him back his bag of Lay’s after only having eaten about half of them. “But only because you so obviously need the nourishment.” 

Frank grabs his chips and huffs. He didn’t _ask_ to be tiny, he just ended up that way, and being made fun of for it won’t change that, no matter how much his friends seem to try to prove him wrong. 

For the rest of lunch, the usual madness ensues. The Terrible Trio – Bert, Jepha, and Quinn – find every possible way to make lunch as annoying as possible for the rest of them. Jamia would join in, as she’s a trickster herself, but they always gang up on her so she’s sworn herself to protecting Frank from the three of them when they choose him to pick on instead. Worm, he’s another story. No one messes with Worm – not unless they want a new hole in their face, that is. Mostly, he puts up with them, but Frank knows deep down Worm loves them. Probably. 

“Come on, Frankie,” Bert says, suddenly getting up. “Let’s see if we can catch a glimpse of the new guy.” 

Usually, Frank doesn’t set foot out in the main lobby if he can avoid it. Everyone always thinks he’s either a student or a maintenance worker, not a professional with a Library Sciences degree. So, his career didn’t pan out exactly like he’d expected when he finished his Master’s. So, what? He’s still employed here, in a college library, and grunt work or not, he’s never looking back. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants to be out in public where people won’t understand the value of his work. 

Or the work that he could be doing, behind a reference desk. 

Frank gets up and follows Bert out of the staff lounge. In the lobby, Ray is giving a tour to whom Frank presumes to be the new guy. His back is turned at the moment as Ray gestures to the display case near the front of the library. It’s lunch, which means a lot of students are sitting around doing last-minute homework before their afternoon classes, and the last thing Frank wants is for one of them to see him and ask something embarrassing like if he’s in Professor Stanley’s British Literature class, but he steps out of the shadows to get a better look anyway. 

Ray turns to lead the new guy over toward the Special Collections room, and they finally get a head-on view. 

The guy is, well, _pretty_ is the best way Frank can think to put it. He’s got long black hair that looks soft and feathery, a cute nose and mouth with gorgeous hazel eyes that catch the light. He’s dressed formally for his first day in a waistcoat and dress slacks, but it suits him. He makes it look young, like he is, as Frank guesses he can’t be too far into his thirties. 

Suddenly, Frank realizes Ray and the new guy are headed their way, and he yanks Bert back into an alcove where they’re out of sight. 

“What the _fu_ –” Bert starts, but Frank slaps a hand over his mouth before he can say any more. 

Ray passes by them, waving his hands and speaking loudly about all the great things they have in the Special Collections department as he leads his trainee down the hallway. Neither of them notices that two of their coworkers are silently spying on them from over by the water fountains. 

Finally, the door to the Special Collections department swings shut, and Frank releases his hold on Bert. 

“Dude. What the hell,” Bert says accusingly. 

“Sorry,” Frank says. “But just for the record, man, _flashy_ is not quite the right word for that guy.” 

“Oh my god.” Bert breaks out in a huge grin and Frank slaps a palm over his face. 

“No,” Frank says, but he knows it’s too late. 

“You think he’s _cute_!” Bert teases. 

Frank groans and rubs his eyes. “No. He’s just… interesting.” He looks up to see Bert still wearing that stupid shit-eating grin. 

“Uh huh, yeah. _Interesting_ as in ‘I’d be interested in you fucking me over the reference desk, thank you very much.’” 

“Bert! Shut the fuck up!” But Bert is giggling now, and when he starts giggling, he doesn’t stop. “Come on,” Frank says through gritted teeth. “We’ve gotta get back to work.” 

~ 

The next few days pass without incident. Frank only sees the new guy – he still hasn’t even caught his name yet – in passing, mostly when they’re with other people. He seems to stick to the Special Collections department for the most part, only coming out for breaks or if he needs to ask a reference librarian a question. Not that Frank has been paying attention. 

Frank does notice that he seems to hang out with one of the librarians, Mikey, quite a lot, which is definitely not a good sign. Mikey is the bane of every processing worker’s existence – him and his girlfriend and fellow ref lib Alicia, that is. The two of them like to be as vague as possible when answering questions and seemingly lead workers astray on purpose, though they’ve never been caught. Not even when Quinn processed seventy new books with the wrong call numbers because Alicia told him they were being housed in medical history rather than biology, for no reason other than she obviously wanted to fuck with him and make him do the work all over again. 

If the new guy is on good terms with either of them, Frank doesn’t know if they’d ever be able to get along. 

Then again, he hasn’t even spoken to the guy yet, so there’s not really any way to tell. And when he finally gets his chance, it comes as a surprise. 

Taking his usual break at mid-morning when none of the librarians would be at lunch yet, Frank heads off to the staff lounge to see if anyone had left pastries or drinks behind. He hums as he walks down the back hallways, knowing no one would be around to hear him, and pushes open the staff-only door. 

He realizes very quickly that he’s not alone. 

The humming dies in his throat as he watches the new guy fight with the coffee machine. For a few moments, Frank can’t do anything other than watch as he presses random buttons and makes frustrated noises. Suddenly, Frank comes back to himself and kicks into action. 

“It doesn’t work,” he says. 

The new guy whirls around, obviously not having noticed Frank was there until now. “Oh,” he says, running a hand through his hair and only succeeding in messing it up more. “Any idea when it’ll be fixed?” 

Frank shook his head, and then coughed awkwardly. “No. It’s been broken for ages. Not sure if it’ll ever work again.” 

“Oh,” the new guy says again. He glances at the coffee machine with a forlorn look. Frank can understand that. 

“I’m Frank,” he says, stepping forward and jutting out a hand. 

“Oh, um. Gerard,” the new guy – _Gerard_ – says, and takes Frank’s hand in a firm, warm grip. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” 

“Yeah,” Frank says as he retracts his hand and makes a conscious effort not to nervously wipe it on his pants. Suddenly, he’s much sweatier than he was a few moments ago. “I mostly stick to the processing area.” 

“Oh! I’ve been so curious about what goes on back there, but no one I ask seems to know. What’s it like?” Gerard seems genuinely interested in learning about Frank’s menial job, and it catches Frank off guard. 

“Um. It’s not all that exciting. Just a lot of new books that need processing. Mostly what you’d expect,” Frank finishes lamely. 

“Oh.” Gerard seems pretty fond of that word, but each time he uses it, he expresses a different emotion. At the moment, he sounds disappointed, and for some reason Frank can’t deal with that. 

“Sometimes we fix books,” Frank adds quickly. _I_ fix books, he reminds himself. He’s the only one who does it, the only one who even knows how, but he might as well not try to talk himself up to Gerard anyway. He’ll find out Frank’s not worth much soon enough, especially if he keeps hanging around Mikey and the other librarians. 

“Oh, wow. Like really old ones that have gotten damaged?” Gerard asks, a hopeful note in his voice. 

“Sometimes. Mostly it’s books the students use a lot. Wear and tear, ya know. But sometimes we find a really, really old one that just needs a little TLC.” 

“Damn. That’s really cool.” Gerard gives a warm smile, Frank feels it all the way down to his toes. 

He realizes he’s been silent for an awkward amount of time and quickly jumps to fill the silence. “Thanks,” he says. “Special Collections, that’s cool too.” He means it. The stuff they have in their rare book collection is pretty impressive for a small liberal arts college. He’s always meant to spend more time in there looking through everything, but he’s never had the time. 

“You think so? I love it. I love working with out of print books, rare books, books that are just plain priceless. Really puts things in perspective, ya know?” 

“Yeah,” Frank says, even though he doesn’t really know. “It’s really– Oh, shit.” The clock behind Gerard’s head is telling Frank his break has been over for nearly five minutes. He doesn’t remember standing here chatting for this long, but the time must’ve gotten away from them. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go. It was nice talking with you!” Before he can hear if Gerard replies, the door staff door swings shut behind him. 

~   
It’s easy to get lost in the act of mending books. It’s methodical, soothing, distracting. Or, at least, it is to Frank. 

In any case, the influx of damaged reserve books from the previous semester are keeping him busy, and he doesn’t even realize it’s been almost a week since he first spoke to Gerard until he sees him again. It’s on a rare occasion when Frank has to drop off some newly processed books at the circulation desk, meaning he has to venture out into the main lobby and brave whatever backhanded compliments will be thrown his way from the asshole sitting behind the reference desk. Whatever. It’s his job, he can deal. 

But when he drops off the books with the exhausted student worker manning circulation, Frank notices the reference librarian on duty, Lindsey, is distracted. She’s leaned out over the desk so she can talk quietly with Gerard, who’s nodding along and giving Lindsey his full attention. Frank knows he really, really shouldn’t interrupt, but with Gerard there, he’s pretty sure Lindsey will have to be nice to him, and he can’t pass up an opportunity to make her feel like she’s lost the upper hand. 

As Frank approaches the desk, Gerard glances over at him and then smiles. Frank smiles back and notices that Lindsey shuts up almost immediately. 

“Hey, guys,” Frank says as casually as possible. “What’s up?” 

“Not much, we were just talking about–” Gerard starts, but Lindsey smacks him on the shoulder before he can finish the thought. “Um. The weather. Nice day, huh?” 

Frank throws them both a suspicious look. “Yeah. Sure. Real nice.” 

“Hey, Frank,” Lindsey says suddenly. Frank doesn’t know if she’s ever even called him by his name before. It’s usually ‘cataloger’ or ‘book fixer’ that he gets. “Why don’t you show us around the processing room?” 

Frank doesn’t trust Lindsey, not by a mile, and usually he would never let her into their sanctuary at the back of the library, but maybe with Gerard there she won’t try anything. Plus, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to show Gerard the damaged books he’s been working on. 

“Okay. Sure. Follow me,” Frank says cautiously. He still has a bad feeling about letting anyone he doesn’t trust around the processors. They’ve all been pranked and embarrassed by the librarians too many times to count, but he’s halfway to the processing center with Lindsey and Gerard trailing behind him before he even realizes he might get some shit from his other coworkers for this. 

Pushing open the staff-only door, Frank thinks he should maybe be a little more careful about what parts of his life he shows a guy he’s kind of into. As they cross the threshold, they find Quinn and Jepha throwing balled up pieces of paper at each other while Bert stands on a chair and referees. Worm is watching with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face, seemingly uninterested, but Frank knows he’s secretly enjoying himself. Jamia seems to be the only one doing actually any work. 

“Um. So, this is it,” Frank says awkwardly as he gestures to the scene in front of them. He casts a glance at the two librarians and finds them both smiling, which was probably the last thing he expected. Gerard’s face is painted with a huge grin as he watches Quinn and Jepha lob paper balls at each other, while Lindsey’s smile is more reserved. Frank follows her eyeline and sees that she’s not looking at the grown men acting like middle schoolers, but instead is watching Jamia attach laminated book jackets on a stack of new acquisitions. 

“Okay,” Worm says, pushing himself off the wall. “That’s enough, guys. Back to work.” 

“Oh, come on, Worm!” Jepha whines. “I was kicking Quinn’s ass!” 

“You were not,” Quinn protests. 

Bert hops down off the chair. “He kind of really was.” 

“Whatever,” Worm says sternly. “Just go do something productive for once.” 

There are a few more grumbles out of the three troublemakers, but they finally relent and go back to their stations. 

When Frank chances another glance, Gerard is still smiling wide and Lindsey seems happy enough too. 

“Show us around, Frankie,” Gerard says softly. 

“Um. Yeah, okay.” Frank feels a bit like a swooning teenager with the way hearing that nickname out of Gerard’s mouth makes his knees a little weak. 

He leads them around the processing center, starting with Bert where he’s creating records in the system for the new books, then to where Quinn and Jepha are cataloging, which is mind numbing work even for those two. Worm, as acting processing manager, is sitting in his office and looking like he doesn’t want to be disturbed, so Frank leads Gerard and Lindsey over to Jamia instead. 

“Hey, guys,” Jamia says. Frank catches the concerned look she gives him, and he just shrugs in response. “What’s up?” 

“Gerard’s never been back here, so I asked Frank to show him around,” Lindsey explains. Frank’s pretty sure Lindsey hasn’t ever been back here either, and he remembers her being just as interested in the tour as Gerard, but he lets it slide. “What are you up to here?’ 

“Just putting the finishing touches on the books before they go out,” Jamia says. She tapes on another book jacket and then places the book in a pile that needs to go out for shelving 

“Oh my God,” Lindsey says, grabbing the book. “I didn’t know we were getting the new Harry Potter in so soon!” 

Jamia laughs. “Yeah, but it already has about seventy holds on it, so don’t get too excited.” 

“That’s not stopping me from starting in on it right now, is it?” Lindsey jokes back. There’s a mischievous smile playing on her lips, which Frank would not be at all surprised about except for the fact that it seems to be leaning towards _flirty_ , and Frank doesn’t know what to think about that. 

Lindsey and Jamia jump into a conversation about the previous Harry Potter book while Gerard and Frank stand there helplessly. After a few minutes of listening to the two women talk and pretending to know what’s going on, Gerard leans over and whispers, “I stopped after the third one. The next was too damn long.” 

“You’re doing better than me,” Frank whispers back. “I only read the first.” He smiles at Gerard who grins back. “Come on, I’ll show you my station.” 

Silently, they leave Lindsey and Jamia to their conversation and make their way over to Frank’s workbench. On it are a few books he’d finished mending earlier that day and a few more he should get started on soon. 

“This one just needed a new spine label,” Frank explains, picking up the first book and showing Gerard the fresh call number sticker. “The ones that are shelved near the windows get sun bleached until you can’t even read them. Or sometimes they just get old and fall off.” 

Gerard chuckles. “Boy do I know about that. At my last job we got in a first edition copy of _Moby Dick_ that had belonged to a few different libraries over the years. The most damaged thing about it was the peeling call number.” 

Frank’s jaw drops. “But the original call number would’ve been painted on, right?” Gerard nods. “They put a fucking sticker over that? Are you kidding me?” 

Frank realizes belatedly that he maybe shouldn’t be swearing on the job with a new coworker, but Gerard just laughs. “I know, right? Who does that? Now the poor thing will always have a little bit of sticker gunk on it.” Gerard scans over the other books on Frank’s bench. “Is that a first edition copy of _The Shining_?” he asks, his eyes growing wide. 

Frank picks up the book in question and checks the publishing information. “Looks like it, yeah. It’s signed too. Look.” He holds out the book for Gerard to see the signature written on the first blank page. 

“Wow. That’s gonna be worth a lot of money someday.” Gerard sounds genuinely awed. Frank likes the way it sounds and thinks he could get addicted to the reverent way Gerard seems to talk about things he cares about. 

“I’ll be sure to keep it in good condition for you,” Frank says. Gerard smiles shyly at him and maybe even blushes a little, if Frank is seeing right. _Wait_ , he thinks. _Are we flirting? Did I just flirt with the new guy?_

“I better get back to work,” Gerard says, and Frank’s heart sinks. “There’s someone from the board coming in at noon. Wants to talk to me about teaching a Book Arts class or something.” Gerard makes a face. “Teaching is definitely not my thing, so we’ll see.” 

“Good luck, dude.” 

“Thanks.” Gerard gives him another little smile as he ducks out of the staff room. 

Frank exhales slowly and leans back against his work bench. _I am so fucked_ , he thinks. 

~ 

“All right, crew,” Brian says in his no-nonsense voice, but he uses it so much that Frank should probably just start thinking of it as his regular voice. “We’ve got some prospective Hilltop students coming in so Gabe, I’m gonna have you run a tour for them.” 

“Got it,” Gabe says with a smile. Inside, Frank is cursing the bastard. He would kill to get to give tours to students, but that’s a job reserved for librarians and librarians only. 

“Gerard, we’re going to push Special Collections so be ready for them to come to you. Gabe will probably bring them by at around three.” 

Gerard nods, but Frank can tell he’s unhappy about. From what little he’s been able to understand of Gerard, Frank knows he’s much less keen on interacting with the public than Frank is. Not that Frank’s too ecstatic about it either, not with his current job position. 

“Mikey, Ray called in sick so I’m putting you at the ref desk while the tour’s on. _Please_ try to be welcoming.” 

Frank suppresses a snort. Mikey’s about the least welcoming librarian they’ve got, but it’s Lindsey and Alicia’s day off, and it’s definitely better to have Gabe lead the tour than Mikey. 

“I can be welcoming,” Mikey says in his usual monotone. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank catches Gerard hiding a giggle in his sleeve. Somehow, he must already know that public service is not Mikey’s strong suit. 

“Great.” Brian turns towards Worm. “Processing team, make sure nothing goes wrong today, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Worm grumbles in reply for all of them. 

“Good. We’ve got five minutes till opening, let’s go.” Brian claps his hands together and with that, the meeting is over. 

Frank sighs as they begin the walk back to the processing center. “I wish we had, like, _anything_ to do on event days.” 

“What?” Bert laughs. “You actually _want_ to be given more work?” 

“Yeah, kind of,” Frank admits. “It’s just boring doing the same shit day in and day out.” 

“Look at this way,” Bert says as he slings an arm around Frank’s shoulders. “You’ll never be out of your depth. Now, Gerard? He’s gonna have no idea what to do with a bunch of high schoolers running around his precious rare books. And you just know Mikey’s gonna be watching porn or some shit when they come in. But us? We’re golden.” 

“I guess,” Frank says as they reach the staff-only room. “I just wish I was challenged sometimes, ya know?” 

“Honestly?” Bert says, releasing Frank from his hold and pulling the door open. “No. I really don’t.” 

~ 

Frank can hear Gabe leading the tour from all the way back at his work bench. He grits his teeth and continues working on a broken spine. At least he gets to mend while the tour is going on, which helps him calm down a little. But he promised Bert he’d take over for him on records management later, so he’ll have to get started on that at some point today. 

It’s nice when he gets a full day of only mending to do, but that rarely happens. Sometimes, Frank finds himself wishing the students were even more careless, just so he’d have more books to fix, but he knows he shouldn’t wish damage on the books. He just loves putting them back together again, is all. 

Suddenly, Gabe’s voice gets louder as the door to the processing center swings open. For one horrible moment Frank thinks Gabe is about to lead a gaggle of students through the staff-only area but is relieved to see only Gerard come in. Gabe’s voice fades back to an annoying muffled drone as the door closes behind Gerard. 

No one else seems to have noticed him come in, which is all well and good with Frank, especially because Gerard doesn’t seem interested in talking to anyone else. He approaches Frank’s workbench cautiously, like he doesn’t think he’s allowed. 

“Sorry to disturb you,” Gerard says. 

Frank smiles. “You’re not.” 

“Oh. Okay, good. Gabe’s going to be heading to Special Collections in a few minutes, so…” 

“So, you’re hiding?” 

“Maybe?” Gerard says sheepishly. 

Frank bursts out laughing. “Oh my _God_.” 

Gerard starts giggling along with him. “It’s ridiculous, I know. God, I’m so stupid.” 

“No, no,” Frank says, waving Gerard off and trying to get a handle on himself. “I get it. Sort of.” 

“You do?” Gerard’s look of surprise is so perfect that Frank would almost think he’d rehearsed it in a mirror. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ shape that Frank can’t help but linger on for a second. 

“Yeah.” Frank clears his throat and meets Gerard’s eye. “I mean, you don’t like working with the public, right?” Gerard shakes his head. “So, you came back here to hide with the rest of us outcasts. It makes sense.” Frank realizes he maybe shouldn’t have referred to Gerard that way and cringes internally, but Gerard doesn’t seem to mind. 

“I just like the quiet and the books. Is that too much to ask?” he says, smiling. 

Frank smiles back. “Man, we should totally switch jobs.” 

Gerard looks confused. “You think?” 

“Well, not really. I always wanted to be a reference librarian but, well…” He gestures to his tattooed hands and neck. “I maybe should’ve held off on the body mods until after I’d gotten a job.” He pauses for a second, letting Gerard take in the information. He’s not sure why he’s telling this guy his whole life story, but for some reason he feels like he can, like Gerard _wants_ him to. “I’m qualified for it–” Frank grimaces. “Okay, only sort of qualified. I graduated last year from Berkeley.” 

“Oh, shit,” Gerard says. “Tough break, man.” 

By now, everyone’s heard the hot gossip that UC Berkeley’s library sciences program had recently lost its accreditation. Anyone who’d graduated before that got to keep their full degree, Frank included, but it didn’t bode well for graduates who’d just exited the program. 

“Anyway, they stuck me back here and now I never see a member of the public, even if I want to. Sounds perfect for you,” Frank jokes. 

“Wow. Maybe we really should switch jobs,” Gerard says. “I love mine, except when I have to… you know, talk to people.” Frank laughs good-naturedly. “But this is my first job as a rare books curator, which is nice. All my previous jobs have been as a reference librarian.” 

“Damn.” 

“I feel bad complaining about it after what you just said–” 

“No,” Frank cuts it. “Don’t worry about it. You were unhappy, I’m unhappy. It’s all the same.” 

Gerard nods. “Sometimes I think I should go work at a used bookstore or something. Somewhere I can be standoffish and not get fired for it, and only care about the books.” 

“Dude, for real,” Frank says, getting up from his work bench and gesturing to the seat. “Take my place. Really. You’ll love it.” 

Gerard laughs. “I couldn’t do half the stuff you do! I have no idea how to mend shit.” Frank laughs with him. Then, Gerard looks more serious. “I really admire you for what you do, Frankie.” 

“Thank you,” Frank says quietly, not sure what else to say. 

“Gerard!” Brian calls from the doorway. “Get your ass back to Special Collections!” 

“Fuck. Shit. Okay!” Gerard yells over his shoulder. “I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?” And with that, he’s gone. 

Frank slumps back against his work bench. “Talk to you soon,” he says to the empty air. 

~ 

“God fucking damn it!” 

Frank pauses outside the staff lounge. Someone in there is obviously not having a good time. He really has to get this cart of new acquisitions from Brian’s office back to the processing center, but he finds himself leaving the cart in the hallway and opening the staff lounge door before he can stop himself. 

Inside, Gerard is fighting with the coffee machine. Literally fighting with it. Frank watches as he smacks the thing a few times, and the machine responds with a sad beeping noise. Gerard groans and then knocks his head against the wall in frustration. “Why me, Lord?” he says pleadingly, and Frank has to stifle a laugh. 

“Everything okay?” Frank asks, startling Gerard. 

Gerard looks up confusedly and then relaxes when he sees Frank. “No,” he says miserably. “Someone told me it was fixed so I came rushing up here and…” 

“It’s not fixed,” Frank concludes. 

Gerard nods, casting a longing look at the coffee machine. 

“Who told you it was working?” Frank asks. 

Gerard turns towards Frank where he’s still hovering in the doorway. “Gabe. He had a full coffee mug with him, so I thought he must be right.” 

Frank shakes his head. “He did the same thing to me once. The asshole will dump his morning Starbucks in a mug from the rack and then pretend he got the machine to work. It’s a dirty trick.” 

Gerard’s mouth falls open. “Why would someone ever do something like that?” 

Frank shrugs. “Like I said, he’s an asshole.” 

Gerard frowns. “Do you… Do you guys get this shit a lot?” 

Frank shrugs again. “Yeah. Kinda.” He doesn’t really want to go into the whole feud between the librarians and the processing staff, not when Gerard’s still in his first few weeks here. He doesn’t need to get roped into all that shit. But if he asks, Frank isn’t going to lie. 

“Oh,” Gerard says. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re in with the librarians anyway. I bet they’ll come down on Gabe for giving you shit.” Frank offers a weak smile. 

Gerard’s eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean I’m in with the librarians?” 

“Well, Mikey and Lindsey obviously like you. And Ray likes everyone. So that’s most of them.” 

“Mikey _has_ to like me,” he says as if it’s obvious, though Frank has no idea what he’s referring to. “And I think Lindsey’s just being nice because–” Gerard clamps his mouth shut. 

“Because what?” 

“Nothing! I gotta run, the Book Art kids will be here any minute,” Gerard says as he hurries past Frank and out the door. 

“Oh.” Frank had totally forgotten about Gerard maybe having to teach a class. “Good luck!” he yells at Gerard’s back after following him out. 

“You really gotta step up your game,” Bert says. 

“Holy shit!” 

Bert is leaning against the wall outside the staff lounge, looking bored. “He’s totally into you. Just go for it.” 

“What the fuck do you mean, just go for it?” Bert falls in step with Frank as they head back to the processing area, Frank pushing the full cart of new books once again. “We’re colleagues, not college students. I’d have to, like, go through HR and shit.” 

Bert scoffs. “You think Mikey and Alicia went through HR? Hell no. And they fucking _live_ together. No one cares, man. Just ask him out.” 

“Huh. All right,” Frank relents. “I’ll think about it.” 

Bert flashes him one of his signature mischievous smiles as they head back to their stations. “Hell yeah.” 

~ 

The coffee machine is broken. He knows this. Why does it still wound his heart? 

“It’s broken,” says a voice from behind Frank. 

He turns to see Lindsey pouring herself a mug of tea. His expertly-timed breaks must have failed him. “Yeah, I know,” he says dejectedly. “I think I just have chronic wishful thinking.” 

She sets the kettle down and smiles at him. _Smiles_. At _Frank_ _Iero_ , certified _loser_. “That’s not a bad thing,” she says, and it sounds genuine. 

“Uh.” Frank pauses, not sure what the hell is going on. “I guess not.” 

Lindsey stirs some honey into her tea, looking thoughtful. “We need more positivity around here. It can’t hurt.” 

“Um. Yeah.” 

There’s an awkward silence between them for a few moments, and then Lindsey says, “Can I ask you something?” 

_Oh fuck_ , _here it comes_ , he thinks, preparing himself for one insult or another. “Sure,” he says guardedly. 

“You’re friends with Jamia, right?” 

Frank has to resist the urge to shake his head in disbelief. “Uh, yeah. We’re pretty good friends, I guess.” 

“What sort of stuff does she like?” 

At this point, Frank has absolutely no idea where this conversation is going. “Stuff?” 

“You know, like, what she’s into. What she does for fun. That sort of stuff,” Lindsey explains. 

“Oh. Um. Well, she likes books,” he jokes. Lindsey rolls her eyes, which Frank figures he deserves. “Let’s see… She loves dogs, but her landlord won’t let her have one. I know she used to volunteer at an animal shelter, too.” 

“That’s _perfect_!” Lindsey says, delighted. “Thank you, Frankie! You’re a lifesaver.” She’s already halfway out the door. 

“Oh. Um. You’re welcome?” Frank calls after her. “What the fuck,” he says to himself. 

~ 

Night shifts always suck. Hilltop’s library only stays open until midnight, unlike a lot of academic libraries that are open twenty-four-hours, but Frank can’t stand the late nights even so. Not while he’s at work, anyway. 

The only good thing about it is that he actually gets to sit at the reference desk. Being the only member of the processing staff who’s qualified to do it, Brian jumped at the chance to schedule him for late-night monitor hours when no one’s really around, unless it’s finals week, that is. 

Frank would love it, except that no one ever asks him for help. 

The kids know who the reference librarians are from all the times they’ve asked for help on one research project or another, and they never approach an unfamiliar face. Frank gets the feeling that the students just don’t trust him to be able to help them out. It hurts, but he doesn’t really blame them. He wouldn’t trust someone like him to know his shit either. 

So, on nights where he’s scheduled to stay late after his processing shift, Frank is usually pretty unhappy about it. There’s so many other ways he could be spending his time: playing guitar, watching TV, jerking off, maybe all three if he had the whole night to himself. But he’ll be stuck at the library until after it closes at midnight, probably not even making it home until around one. At least he doesn’t have to open the next morning. 

Tonight is no exception. He’s not looking forward to sitting at the desk with nothing to do, no interesting questions to answer, no patrons to help, but he knows he’ll just have to buckle down and get through it. Maybe he can use the desk computer to watch Netflix on mute. 

He’s on his way to the staff lounge after finishing his processing shift when Brian stops him. He’s just come out of his office, looking flustered and frustrated as ever. 

“Hey, Frank,” he says, stopping Frank in his tracks. “You have a minute before I get going?” 

“Sure,” Frank says, approaching Brian cautiously. He’s never quite gotten over that one time Brian chewed him out for sticking gum all over Alicia’s locker. It was still totally worth it. 

“Gerard’s staying tonight to learn the ropes for late-night monitoring. I was hoping you could show him the job?” 

Frank knows he doesn’t really have a choice, but he doesn’t mind one bit. “Yeah, of course.” 

“Thanks,” Brian says with a smile, and then makes his way to the stairs. 

The staff lounge is empty when he gets there. He grabs a breakfast bar and the bottle of orange juice he’d left for himself in the fridge. He spies a Tupperware container of leftovers that look pretty appetizing, but he resists the urge. Stealing food would make him just as bad as the librarians, the evil bastards. 

He eats his snack and thinks about the night ahead of him. Just him and Gerard, hanging out with nothing to do once he gives the very short explanation of the late-night monitor job. He feels a little bad for Gerard, as he knows the guy will probably obsess about being put at the reference desk where students will ask him questions. But once he learns that that’s not really something that happens after 7pm, maybe he’ll relax a little. Frank would like to see what Gerard is like when he lets loose. 

_Shit_ , Frank thinks. Thinking about Gerard as theoretically more than a friend is one thing, thinking about Gerard like _that_ , especially while on the job, is a whole other. 

Glancing at the clock, Frank finds it’s almost time for him to take over at the reference desk, and he should probably get going so Gerard doesn’t beat him there. The last thing he wants is for Gerard to realize he has no clue what he’s doing half the time. 

Downstairs, Ray is packing up the last of his stuff. Frank breathes a sigh of relief that he doesn’t have to deal with any of the other librarians. 

“Hey, man,” Ray says when he sees Frank. “Good day?” 

Frank shrugs. “Same old, same old. You?” 

“Pretty good. Helped some kid who’s doing a project on the evolution of comics books. Wish I knew more about that sort of thing. But it was fun anyway.” Ray says it with such nonchalance, not knowing that just across the desk, Frank is boiling with jealousy. 

He’d give anything to help students with their fun, creative projects, _especially_ about comic books. Helping people was the whole damn reason he wanted to be a librarian in the first place. 

He can’t blame Ray for it, though, and he knows it. “That’s really cool, dude,” he says, even though it hurts. 

“Yeah. Well, I’m off. Have a good night!” Ray waves as he leaves the reference desk behind. 

“You too!” Frank takes Ray’s spot behind the desk and revels in the feeling of the comfy swivel chair. Even if he doesn’t get to be a _real_ librarian, it’s still nice to sit on the throne, as it were. 

“Hey,” Gerard says, suddenly appearing on the other side of the desk. “Uh. I’m supposed to learn about the night shifts I guess?” 

“Yeah! Don’t worry, it’s no big deal.” Frank motions for Gerard to come around the back of the desk, noticing how Gerard stands maybe a little closer than necessary. “So, Ray taught you how to find stuff in the catalog?” Gerard nods. “Cool. That’s most of it, just finding things for people when they need it. And people pretty much never ask, anyway. Other than that, it’s just keeping an eye on things, making sure no one’s making too much noise, just normal stuff.” 

“Oh. Okay, that’s… better than I expected,” Gerard says. 

Frank grins at him. “Yeah. No worries, it’s the easiest job in the world.” 

Gerard nods a few times and stands there silently for a few moments. Eventually, he asks, “So… What do we do now?” 

“Oh!” Frank had been so distracted by getting to be around Gerard again that he’d forgotten there wasn’t really a need for Gerard to stick around. “Uh, you can go. If you want.” 

“You don’t want any company?” Frank can’t be sure, but something in Gerard’s voice sounds heavy, loaded, like there’s something more than what’s on the surface. 

“Sure, I do, but only if you want to stick around. I wouldn’t wanna keep you from your night.” 

Gerard chuckles softly, and it sounds a little bitter. “Nah, I don’t have much going on these days.” 

Frank isn’t sure how to interpret that, but he’s not about to push his luck by digging deeper. “Okay. Well, we can just hang out back here if you want.” He kicks an extra swivel chair towards Gerard. “No one will bother us, probably.” Frank realizes that it sounds like he’s implying he and Gerard would get up to something that could be interrupted by nosy onlookers only after the words are out of his mouth, and he blushes furiously at the thought, but Gerard doesn’t seem to notice. 

Instead, Gerard sits down in the seat Frank offered to him and examines his hands very, very closely. Frank, sensing the awkwardness already settling in, clears his throat and tries to think of anything to say so that will keep Gerard from getting bored and then maybe he won’t regret hanging out with Frank. 

“So. How’s the job been so far?” Frank asks. 

Gerard rests his hands in his lap and looks up at Frank. “Pretty good. The Book Arts class is the only challenging thing, really. Otherwise it’s just fun.” He smiles a little as he says it, obviously thinking of the things about his job he enjoys. 

“That’s good. How is teaching, anyway?” Frank braces himself for an overwhelmingly negative answer, but to his surprise, he doesn’t get one. 

“It’s… all right. I’m just not very good at it. The kids are great and are really willing to forgive me for all the shit I don’t know about, like, how teaching actually works. But it’s okay. There’s just somewhat of a learning curve.” 

“That’s really awesome, man.” Gerard tries to wave Frank off, but Frank insists. “No, I mean it. I’m happy for you.” Their eyes meet, and for a few seconds they just stare at each other in heavy silence. 

“Thanks,” Gerard says finally. “I feel like you should be teaching it, though. You know all about how to make books, I bet. And you’re great with people.” 

Frank’s blush comes back in force. “You really think so?” He’s barely gotten the chance to know Gerard, and Gerard knows next to nothing about him, but for some reason, he really cares about what Gerard has to say. He doesn’t want Gerard to sugarcoat things just to make him feel better, but he also knows it’ll hurt more than it should if Gerard really doesn’t think he’d be good at teaching. 

“Yeah,” Gerard says, still looking straight at Frank. “I really do, Frankie.” 

“Thank you. Really, that- That means a lot.” Frank looks down quickly and rolls up the sleeves on his shirt, just to have something to do. 

“Oh,” Gerard says, and Frank looks up. Gerard is staring down at his exposed forearms “You have so many tattoos.” 

Frank laughs. “Yeah. Again, not the best decision when you haven’t even finished your undergrad.” 

“Can I…” Gerard looks at him questioningly, his hand extended in mid-air. 

“Ye-Yeah. Go ahead.” 

Gerard reaches his hand forward, and Frank holds his breath. Very, very lightly, Gerard traces the outlines of the tattoos with his fingertips. The sensation makes Frank shiver, and he’s worried Gerard will realize the effect he’s having on him, but his eyes don’t stray from Frank’s arms. 

“They’re beautiful,” Gerard says softly. 

“Thank you,” Frank says, and it comes out nearly as a whisper. Gerard’s fingers are still stroking over his skin, and it makes the hair on Frank’s arms stand on end. He’s trying not to fidget as Gerard touches him, but it’s hard not to twitch under his scrutiny. 

Finally, Gerard seems to come back to himself. “Oh, shit,” he says, snatching his hands away. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize–” 

“No, dude. It’s totally fine,” Frank says. _It’s way more than fine_ , he thinks. He’s already missing the feeling of Gerard’s hands on him, and he hopes to God it won’t be the last time. 

“Do they all have meanings?” Gerard asks, still staring at Frank’s arms. 

Frank shrugs. “They did at one time. I don’t regret any of them, but they mean different things to me as time goes on. They’re like snapshots of my life, ya know? I got most of them when I thought I was going to be in a band–” 

“You were in a band?” Gerard asks suddenly, his eyes darting up to meet Frank’s. 

“Yeah. For a while, in high school and college. Thought it was gonna take off. Almost dropped out of college for it.” Frank lets out a long breath. “God, am I glad I didn’t. We broke up part way through my sophomore year. I tried again a few times after that but… nothing really worked out. So,” he gestures to the library around them, “here I am.” 

“Wow. Um. Is it weird that I’m a little glad it didn’t work out?” Gerard gives Frank a timid smile. “I’m just… happy you ended up here is all.” 

“I’m glad I ended up here too,” Frank says. “Even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.” _Want_ , Frank reminds himself. _What I still want_. 

Gerard nods a little sadly. “It’ll happen someday, I think. You’ve only been graduated, what? A year? You’ll find a library that’s happy to have you as a librarian, tattoos and all.” 

Frank smiles at that. “Yeah… We’ll see. Where’d you graduate from, anyway?” 

“University of Washington, class of ’02.” 

Frank’s jaw drops. “No shit?” 

“No shit,” Gerard says, smiling. 

“Damn, dude. Five years out of the best program in the country? You’ve gotta be rollin’ in it by now.” 

“Technically it’s only second best. And I’m definitely not rolling in it.” Gerard chuckles. “Haven’t even paid off all my loans. But… I’m happy. Especially working here, it’s great.” 

“I’m really glad you like it here, man. The librarians aren’t giving you too much trouble?” 

“I told Mikey about the thing with Gabe and the coffee machine and he gave Gabe a talking to. I’d say I’m in the clear.” 

Frank lets out a slow whistle and sits back in his chair. “Must be nice to have Mikey in your corner. That dude runs this place when Brian isn’t looking.” 

Gerard snorts. “He’d better be. I’ve had his back since the day he was born.” 

“Wait.” Frank gives Gerard a confused look. “You and Mikey…?” 

“We’re brothers,” Gerard clarifies. 

“Oh! I had no idea.” 

“Yeah. I’d been living in Seattle since I graduated, but Mikey told me there was an opening here and, well… I was looking for a fresh start anyway, and it seemed like perfect timing.” 

“That’s great. So, you guys are from Seattle, then?” 

“No fucking way,” Gerard says. “Do I look Seattle to you?” Frank smiles and shakes his head. “Didn’t think so. No, we’re Jersey kids.” 

“Dude! For real? Where in Jersey?” 

Gerard’s eyebrows shoot up. “Belleville. You know it?” 

“Hell yeah I do! I’m from Kearny.” 

“Oh my God. I totally assumed you were from here.” 

“It’s okay. I moved here to go to Berkeley after undergrad and just ended up sticking around in the Bay afterwards. Kinda like you with Seattle, I guess.” 

“Totally like me, yeah.” 

They sit there for a minute, not saying anything. Frank is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he and Gerard were practically neighbors, and he’d bet Gerard is doing the same. He never knew anyone else from the library was from Jersey, and he’s surprised it took him this long to figure out that Mikey was from there, let alone Gerard. 

After a while, Frank asks, “So you and Mikey both had the same big library dreams?” 

Gerard laughs quietly. “Not really. I wanted to draw, at first, but art school wasn’t stable enough. I did fine arts and art history during undergrad, and then decided to go to UW to be an art history librarian. Didn’t end up working out, though, until now. Mikey… he kind of followed my path. He loves his job, don’t get me wrong, but he was applying to librarian programs the year after I started, and that was kind of it.” 

“Wow. Where did he go?” 

“University of Illinois.” 

Frank gapes at Gerard once again. “Are you _fucking_ kidding me? We’ve got graduates from the top two library schools in the country under one roof?” 

Gerard laughs again. Frank really likes the sound of it. “I am not kidding you. I didn’t even get in there. The guy’s a genius.” 

Frank shuts his mouth and sits back in his chair, not having realized he’d moved forward again. “Damn.” He’d make some self-deprecating joke, but he doesn’t think that’d be a very flattering look in front of Gerard, so he says nothing. 

“Yeah… Listen, I’m scheduled to open tomorrow so I should probably go home and sleep. But this was fun. Let me know next time you’re on the late shift, I’ll hang out with you.” Gerard lightly smacks Frank on the knee before standing up. 

“Sure,” Frank says, and then awkwardly stands up as well. “Um. You let me know, too. Whenever you get put here the first time. I’ll stick around in case you have any questions.” He gives Gerard a mock salute, and then internally curses himself for being such a dork. 

Gerard only laughs, but not in a mean way. “I will. See you around, Frankie.” He waves goodbye as he heads towards the exit and Frank watches him go until long after the doors have closed. 

~ 

“Motherfucking shit fuck!” 

Frank hates mornings. Frank _especially_ hates Monday mornings, and today happens to be one of those. Not only that, but he’s out of milk, coffee creamer, _and_ half and half. Some days he can do black coffee, but today he really wants something nice and creamy to take the edge off. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have time to stop at a Starbucks on his way to work, and he just knows the machine in the staff lounge isn’t working no matter what lies Alicia spun him on Friday. 

It’s his own damn fault. He thought he could put off grocery shopping for another few days, but he should know by now that only ever ends in disaster. And disaster, it seems, is striking him now. He groans in frustration and opts to go without coffee altogether. Quickly, he pulls on a cardigan, grabs his keys, and heads out the door. 

On the ground floor of his apartment building, Frank is faced with the same tough decision he is every day: he can catch the bus, and maybe be a bit late because it’s the fucking bus and you never know when it’s gonna come, or he can drive his shitty beater and fight with all the other staff members for the five faculty parking spots on campus. It’s a toss-up, basically. 

For today, Frank chooses the bus. He figures it probably isn’t the best idea for him to drive without any coffee in him anyway. 

On his way out to the bus stop, Frank pulls out his phone and texts Bert, _Any_ _chance you could pick me up a cup of joe?_ knowing he’s unlikely to get any kind of response, let alone a positive one. 

Just as the bus is rounding the corner, his phone buzzes. _Srry_ _dude no can do_ , he reads, and snaps his phone shut with a sigh, resigning himself to a sad, long day without any caffeine. 

When the bus stops in front of him, Frank boards it and finds an empty one-seater where no one will bother him and smiles happily as he sits down. The ride across town isn’t so bad, and he remembered to bring his iPod so really, he’s doing all right. The only problem is, he’s kind of on the edge of falling back asleep. 

He nearly misses his stop because of it and has to bolt from his seat when he realizes the bus has already been stopped for a minute and nearly everyone has gotten off. He makes it, though, and he breathes in a deep breath of fresh air as he walks onto campus, hoping it’ll wake him up. 

It’s late spring, almost summer, which means the end of the semester is just around the corner. They’re still open during normal hours for the summer programs, but there will be fewer students around. Frank doesn’t mind the summer much, anyway, especially if he can work late nights and leave when it’s cool outside. 

By the time he reaches the library doors, he’s only two minutes late, but he’s started to get sleepy again. He walks into the front lobby with droopy eyes and an expression he knows looks exhausted as hell. As soon as he can, he makes a beeline for the back hallways he knows so well, hoping that whoever’s at the reference desk doesn’t manage to catch a glimpse of him. He turns the corner past the rare book room and almost stops to check if Gerard’s in, but thinks better of it as he’s already late. He gets a few steps down the hallway before he hears the door behind him burst open. 

“Frank!” a voice yells after him. 

Frank turns and sees Gerard rushing towards him with something clutched tightly in his hands. 

“I thought I wouldn’t catch you,” Gerard says breathlessly once he’s caught up. “Here, I got you this.” He holds out a coffee cup for Frank. “Americano, with cream.” 

Frank stares at the cup for a few moments before shaking his head to clear out the spiderwebs. “How did you know?” he asks as he takes the cup. 

Gerard smiles. “A little birdy told me.” 

Frank takes a sip, feeling the blessed caffeine kick in almost immediately. “This is amazing, thank you.” 

“Of course. I’ve gotta get back. Have a good one, Frankie!” Gerard jogs back towards the rare book room, leaving Frank stunned in the middle of the hallway. 

He shakes his head again and then walks towards the processing center, sipping his coffee as he goes. At his work bench, he finds a note waiting for him. 

_Don’t say I never did anything for_ _ya_ _._

_Love, Bert._

~ 

Seeing a librarian reading a book at the reference desk isn’t uncommon. They’re _librarians_ , after all. But Gerard isn’t reading just any book, he’s reading a comic book. And if Frank’s not mistaken that comic book might be the newest issue of Doom Patrol. 

Gerard had caught him earlier in the day when he was on his break in the staff lounge and told him he was on late-night monitor duty tonight. Frank happily agreed to hang out for a little while after his shift, and then, as soon as Gerard had left the room, proceeded to squeal in excitement like a teenage girl who’d just gotten asked on her first date. 

He knows it’s not _really_ a date, but after how intimate their conversations got when Frank trained Gerard on the late-night monitor job over a week ago, Frank can’t shake the feeling that it kind of _is_ a date, really. Or, as close to a date as one can get when you’re at work. And you work at a library. And you’re a total nerd who reads Doom Patrol and is secretly pining after your coworker who apparently also reads Doom Patrol seriously what the _fuck_ , how did Frank miss this. 

“Hey,” Frank says as he approaches the reference desk. 

Gerard tears his eyes away from the page, looking like he’d rather just keep reading than give anything else his attention, but brightens when he sees who’s talking to him. “Frankie! I’m so glad you came.” 

Frank smiles. "'Course I did." He manages about two seconds of awkward silence before blurting, "So, you read Doom Patrol?" 

"Yes!" Gerard says excitedly, sliding a bookmark into the copy he'd been reading and then gently setting it down on the desk between them. "Do you?" 

Frank shrugs. "When I can. I can't keep up with issues, they come out way too often for me. But I buy the new volumes whenever they release those. But then I end up having to reread the whole series before starting the new part because I can't remember anything that happened last time so maybe it would be worth it to just bite the bullet and spend all my money and time on reading the issues as they come out.” He's aware that he's rambling, and he only barely manages to stop himself from continuing. 

Gerard doesn't seem to have a problem with the truly massive amount of words coming out of Frank's mouth and instead gestures for Frank to sit in the extra chair beside him, launching into a spiel about how hard it is to keep up with each issue and how he has to narrow down which series he sticks with more closely than others. 

"What did you think of Byrne's run?" Gerard finally asks. 

Frank lets out a long breath. "To be honest, I fucking hated it. I mean, it's Doom Patrol, I'm gonna read it. But he erased everything that Morrison had done during his run, which was really fucking great, and I just couldn't get on board with that. And then there was that weird shit with Rita and Cliff which was just fucking creepy. Didn't sit right with me at all." 

Gerard's eyes have widened and he's nodding at Frank like he's telling him the meaning of life or something. "I agree with you all the way. The new run is a lot better, in my opinion, especially because-” 

"Hey," Frank cuts in, "no spoilers." 

Gerard smiles sheepishly. "Then I should probably shut up about it. I'm so fucking bad about accidentally spoiling stuff." 

_I think I could learn to live with that_ _,_ Frank thinks, smiling to himself. "'S cool. What other stuff are you into." 

"Uhh... X-Men? I guess? I was worried the movies would be bad but they're doing all right. Not sure about the new one but you gotta see 'em, ya know?" 

Frank nods. "Yeah, I get you. It's like, even if it's the shittiest movie ever, you feel obligated to sit through that train wreck just because you know your ten-year-old self would murder you if you skipped the movie made about your favorite comic characters." 

"Exactly!" Gerard says, laughing. "Are you gonna see The Last Stand this weekend?" 

"Nah," Frank says with a wave of his hand. "I feel weird going on opening weekend by myself so I always wait a few weeks before seeing new movies." 

"Oh, well. Um." Gerard's smile fades then, and Frank worries he's said something wrong. "I could maybe go with you? If you'd want?" 

"Oh." Frank stares blankly at Gerard, dumbstruck. 

"No worries if you don't want to! I'd just thought I'd offer, you know, if we both wanted to see it and-” 

"Yes," Frank says, finally coming to his senses. "I'd love to go with you." 

"Oh, cool." Gerard visibly relaxes. "Here, I'll give you my number." He grabs a pencil from beside the desk computer and scribbles his phone number down in near-illegible writing on a scrap of paper before handing it to Frank. "Does Friday night work for you?" 

"Yeah, totally," Frank says, unable to get over the fact that he's holding _Gerard's phone number_ in his hand. And he didn't even have to beg for it. "I'll text you." Unfortunately, Friday is still a few days away, and as Frank glances at the clock he realizes how little time he has before he'll be walking into this stupid building again the following morning. "I should probably go. I'm opening tomorrow." 

"Oh," Gerard says, sounding disappointed. "Yeah, you gotta get your rest. You'll text me, yeah?" 

"Yeah, of course," Frank says as he stands up. He gives Gerard a soft smile, which Gerard returns. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"See you tomorrow!" 

Later, at home, Frank freaks out. "He gave me his number," he says to Bert, nearly whispering into the receiver of his phone. 

"Who gave you what?" Bert says, sounding groggy. Frank hopes he didn't wake Bert up, but he also doesn't really care right now. 

"Gerard. He gave me his phone number." He can't stop smiling to himself and would feel like an idiot if he wasn’t so damn happy. 

"So... Why are you talking to me when you could be calling up Gerard for phone sex?" 

"Shut up! This is big for me." 

Bert laughs. "Yeah, I know. Your first set of digits since Cortez dumped you, like, forever ago. I got it." 

Frank grumbles a little, enough to know that Bert's pissed him off. Bert knows that Frank doesn't like it when he brings up his ex, but Frank knows that Bert only does it when he's being ridiculous about not being able to move on. 

"For real, though," Bert continues, "I'm happy for you. Text him in the morning for his coffee order. He'd go fuckin' crazy for that shit." 

"Oh, that's a good idea," Frank says, writing down 'Get Gerard's coffee order' on his bedside notepad so he doesn't forget to ask. "Thanks, Bertie." 

"You're welcome, Frankie. Now get some sleep, you have work in, like, six hours." 

"Don't fucking remind me." Frank hangs up after the wish each other goodnight, and he falls to sleep easily, dreaming of warm smiles and hazel eyes. 

~ 

"For Operation Survive X-Men Movie – pick you up at 7?" Gerard's text reads. Frank smiles down at his phone and fires off a text in the affirmative. Friday night at seven. It's a date. 

Well, he's not really sure about that part. He hopes it's a date, but neither of them has actually said that. He doesn't even know if Gerard likes him that way. Hell, he doesn't even know if Gerard likes _men_ that way. Okay, he probably does. The guy is gorgeous and his jeans are way too tight for him to only be flaunting it for women. But that still doesn't mean he's interested in Frank. 

Even so, Gerard's smile when Frank delivered his grande white chocolate mocha to the special collections room that morning was positively radiant, and even if Gerard isn't interested in anything more than friendship, it made Frank feel all warm and fuzzy just knowing that Gerard likes him enough to give him one of those smiles. 

_Damn it_ , Frank thinks, not for the first time today. _I'm fucked_. 

He sighs and turns back to the stack of books that need mending for today. 

"Damn," comes Jamia's voice. Frank looks over his shoulder to see her standing just behind him, peering down at the books in front of him. "Those kids really do go hard with their studies, don't they?" 

Frank chuckles. "Yeah. But it's all right. They've got me to fix their..." He has to check the spine for the name of the book he's holding as the front cover has been nearly completely defaced. "Elementary French textbooks. There's still some life in this one. I think." 

Jamia pats his shoulder. "I believe in you," she says with mock sincerity. 

Frank lays a hand over hers. "Thank you. That means so much to me." 

The two of them hold intense eye contact for a moment before cracking up. He's lucky to have a friend like Jamia, really, and he knows that. 

"Hey," Frank says, suddenly remembering the very odd conversation he'd had about Jamia recently. "Lindsey was asking about you. No idea why. She asked me what kind of stuff you like, I said animals. Hope that was harmless enough for whatever evildoing she's planning." 

"Huh." Jamia places a hand on her hip and looks off to the side, thinking. "Not really sure why she'd want to know, but I heard she asked Worm about me too. He told her to fuck off." 

Frank laughs. 

Jamia giggles a bit before continuing. "It's weird, though. She's never really messed with me. Not sure why she's taken the sudden interest." 

Frank shrugs. "Guess we'll find out soon enough." 

"Yeah, guess so... You should probably get working on those before Brian accuses you of slacking off again." 

"Yeah, slacking off on a job he doesn't even know how to _do_." 

"That's my Frankie," Jamia says with a wink, and then she's walking back to her work station, leaving Frank with a smile and a whole lot of work to do. 

~ 

Frank brings Gerard coffee every morning for the rest of the week, getting up twenty minutes early to swing by Starbucks and nab a staff parking spot so that he doesn't have to carry around two full coffee cups on the bus. Gerard is surprised each time Frank brings him his cup, and the look on his face is worth way more than those twenty minutes, plus the extra dough he's spending on Gerard's fancy drinks. So totally worth it. 

On Friday, Frank is jittery as he approaches the special collections room, wondering if he should mention their date-that’s-not-a-date later that night. Gerard is waiting for him on the other side of the door, already smiling wide. 

"Hey," Frank says. 

"Hey." Gerard smiles as he takes a sip of his coffee, and then scrunches up his face when he burns his mouth on it. "Ow, fuck. Um. We're still on for tonight, yeah?" 

Frank is glad that Gerard was the one to bring it up, just so he doesn't have to. "Yeah, totally. You're fine with picking me up?" 

"Of course! It's no problem at all." 

"Cool, thanks. I'll see you at seven then." 

Gerard smiles. "See you at seven." 

~ 

At six forty-five, Frank still hasn't figured out what to wear. 

"Oh my _God_ , Frank," Bert moans from his seat on Frank's bed where he's been watching Frank try on various outfits for the past two hours. "This should _not_ be this hard." 

"I just want to look good for him!" Frank knows he's said just that countless times since he begged Bert to come over and help him, but it's true. Even if it's not a date, he wants Gerard to think he looks good. At least a little bit. 

"And you've tried on about seventy outfits that make you look smokin', so what's the issue?" Bert shoots Frank a grin that Frank returns with a scowl. More seriously, Bert says, "Just wear your nice jeans and the black blazer with that shirt," while nodding to the Cure tee Frank is currently wearing. 

Frank nods. "Okay. Okay, I can do that." He quickly changes into the jeans and has just shrugged on his jacket when there's a knock at the door. Frank turns a wide-eyed look to Bert, who giggles and puts a finger to his lips, and then shoos Frank out of the room. 

Casting one last look down at his outfit, Frank prays Bert was right about the choice and then cautiously opens the door. Gerard is standing on the other side, absently rubbing a hand across his chin, and he brightens when he sees Frank. 

"Frankie!" he exclaims. "Ready to get going?" 

"Yeah. Um. I'm all good." Frank casts a glance over his shoulder and sees Bert peering out from behind his bedroom door, staying out of Gerard's line of sight. Bert gives him a thumbs up and then makes some other, more obscene gestures with his hands. 

Frank stifles a giggle and steps out onto the porch next to Gerard, not bothering to lock the door as he knows Bert will do it with his spare key when he leaves later. Probably after he's trashed the place. 

Gerard smiles at Frank again, not the huge grin he gave when Frank opened the door, but a softer, more familiar smile that makes Frank feel all bubbly inside. _Oh, brother_ , he thinks. He's kind of done for. 

Frank casts glances at Gerard as they walk out to the street, making small talk as they go. Gerard is dressed in black jeans and a thick coat despite it being nearly June in California, for fuck's sake, but he makes it look so damn good that Frank's not about to call him on it. 

Gerard leads them to a sleek black Subaru parked against the curb. It surprises Frank just how nice the car looks from the outside as compared to the organized chaos Gerard seems to have going on in other areas of his life, but when Gerard unlocks the passenger door and holds it open for Frank, he sees that the interior completely matches Gerard's style. It's not messy, exactly, but there's just _stuff_ everywhere. There are various car chargers and aux cords resting in the center console, way more than one person would ever need, there are about seven stacks of CDs in places Frank would definitely expect them to have toppled over but remain steadfastly upright, as well as bags of art supplies and books all over the back seat. 

"Do you paint?" Frank asks as Gerard slides into the driver's seat. 

Gerard casts a look to back seat where a paint tube is threatening to fall out of a plastic bag. "Oh, yeah. I’ve dabbled in pretty much everything. Working on making my own comic, now." 

Frank gapes at him. "You have _got_ to be kidding me." 

Gerard laughs as he starts the engine and pulls away from the curb. "What? Too nerdy for you?" 

"No! Well, yes. But in a good way," Frank says. "You write and draw everything yourself?" 

"Yeah." Gerard nods modestly. "Been working that way since I was a kid." 

"A one-man show, huh?" 

Gerard laughs again. Frank could really get used to that sound. "No," Gerard says. "Definitely not. I've got an entire family of cheerleaders and a few friends in the industry helping me along. Mikey works on it with me sometimes, too. Suggestions, bits of dialogue. That kind of thing." 

"That's really cool," Frank says, and he means it. "You and Mikey close, then?" 

"Yeah, definitely," Gerard says, and Frank feels like an asshole when he's a little disappointed. "Always been super close. I was so fucking happy when I got the job at Hilltop. Really wanted to be closer to him again, ya know?" 

"I'm an only child," Frank confesses. "But I get it. Sort of." 

Gerard hums thoughtfully. "You ever wish you had siblings?" he asks, casting a glance in Frank's direction. 

"Sometimes. I used to get so fucking bored. And sometimes I thought another kid could fix my parents' marriage." Frank scoffs at himself. "But that was _way_ beyond repair." He doesn’t know why he's spilling his childhood sob story to Gerard the very first time they've hung out outside of work, and he quickly changes the subject. "I always had books, though," he says. 

"Me too." Gerard nods enthusiastically. "Comic books, mostly. But also fantasy. Horror. Whatever." 

"Ooh!" Frank says and tries not to be embarrassed about literally oohing and aahing over Gerard. "Who's your favorite horror author?" 

Gerard chuckles. "It's cliché, probably, but I gotta say King." 

"Yes!" He resists the urge to do a fist pump. Barely. "Everyone thinks he's overrated but he's _not_. He's written so many of the classics, and he keeps pumping out some of the scariest shit I've ever encountered, let alone read." Frank takes a breath. "Favorite book: go." 

"Shit, man," Gerard says, laughing. "You can't do that to me." 

"I can and I will." Frank grins at Gerard, and then feels the car come to a stop. He looks around and realizes they've pulled into the movie theater parking lot. "Oh." 

"Yeah, _oh_. Time to get our nerd on." 

Frank huffs a laugh as they get out of the car. "Seems like having your nerd on is a permanent thing for you," he teases. 

Gerard flashes a sly grin that makes Frank's heart stop for a second. "You're figuring me out far too quickly." 

Frank doesn't know what to say to that, but he is positively overjoyed if it's true. 

They head to the box offices and Gerard purchases them two tickets. Frank offers to pay him back about fifteen times, but Gerard just brushes him off and says it's the least he can do for Frank hanging out with him on the late shift and bringing him coffee. The nights Gerard spent with Frank when _he_ was on the late shift and all the times Gerard bought _him_ coffee don't count, apparently. At the snack counter, Frank insists on buying them soda and popcorn, getting it extra buttery when Gerard asks. After, when they're walking towards the theaters, Frank kind of wishes he had a free hand so he could hold one of Gerard's, and then he has to stop and remind himself that this is _not_ a date. Not officially, at least. 

The previews have just started playing when they enter the theater, an ad for some summer action flick flashing obnoxiously across the screen. 

"Where do you wanna sit?" Gerard asks. 

"Um," Frank says intelligently. "Anywhere we can see is good with me." 

"Cool." Gerard leads them to one of the middle rows and then motions for Frank to go in before him. "You mind if I sit on the aisle? I always hate having to ask other people to get up." 

"Yeah, sure," Frank says and sits down in the second seat. "You're way nicer than me, dude. I fucking insist on the window seat on airplanes and then make everyone in the row get up for me when I have to pee every thirty minutes." 

Gerard laughs, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "I bet the flight attendants love you." 

"Oh, totally. I almost got air marshalled once because I put my feet up on the tray table." 

Gerard gives him a skeptical look. "They can air marshal you for that?" 

"Well..." Frank relents, "the air marshal was in the seat in front of me. And I might have taken my time getting comfortable." 

"Oh, shit." Gerard busts out laughing, and Frank feels like he's won a prize. 

Gerard is still giggling when the lights go down, and Frank has to shush him repeatedly while trying not to break out laughing himself. The first scene of the movie plays and Frank tries to relax into it, but he can't. He's hyper aware of how close he is to Gerard: where their elbows nearly touch on the armrest they're sharing, where their knees bump together every time one of them shifts a bit. At one point, they both reach for the popcorn at the same time, and their hands touch. Frank can't quite believe just how cliché it is. 

"You go," Gerard whispers, extracting his hand. 

Frank gives him a sheepish smile and grabs some popcorn, quickly looking back up to the screen where he's not sure what's even happening. A few moments later, after Gerard has eaten his own handful of popcorn, Frank feels Gerard's shoulder lean against his own. He casts a covert glace to his left to see that Gerard has leaned into his space, whether on purpose or accident, Frank doesn't know. Their bodies are now pressed together from shoulder to fingertip, where they meet on the armrest. Frank's breathing quickens and he chides himself for acting like a teenager on his first date. But at the same time, it's making him giddy and light hearted in the way only first dates can. He then has to remind himself it's not a date. Not officially, anyway. 

He kind of wants to see what would happen if he pressed his leg to Gerard's. 

Shaking it off, Frank redirects his attention to the screen where Halle Berry is doing something that is totally cool and also completely confusing as he's been focusing on other things for most of the movie. He tries to wrap his head around where the plot is at now but gives up when Gerard's fingers brush against his own. 

He only just stops himself from gasping. 

Glancing at Gerard again, Frank sees no indication that he knows what he's doing, but his fingers flutter again and Frank wonders if he should move his back. It could be the move that Gerard is waiting for, to make this not-a-date into a date, officially, or it could just lead to him embarrassing himself if Gerard doesn't mean anything by it. He dithers over this dilemma for what seems like just a few moments, but it must be longer than that as he still hasn't come to a decision when the final scene fades out. A wave of disappointment washes over him, but at least he didn't make a fool of himself. 

Gerard stretches, their bodies losing contact as the lights come up, and then smiles at Frank and raises his eyebrows, silently asking whether or not he's ready to leave. Frank nods, and the two of them rise from their seats. Frank grabs the leftover soda and popcorn as he's always thought only assholes leave trash to be picked up by minimum wage staff when you can just as easily do it yourself. He tosses them on their way out of the theater and then the two of them exit the building out into the warm summer night air. 

"So," Gerard says, hands in his pockets as they walk towards his car. "What'd you think?" 

"Uh," Frank starts. "Good?" He's pretty sure he would've thought it was good had he been paying close enough attention to make a judgement. 

Gerard nods. "Yeah. Not as good as the first two, I don't think, but not bad." 

"Exactly," Frank agrees. 

They’re silent until they reach Gerard's car, and then Gerard pops a Queen CD in and the two of them sing along. Loudly. 

Frank is grinning like mad by the time they pull up outside his apartment. Reluctantly, Gerard turns down the volume on Bicycle Race so the two of them can say goodbye. Frank rests his hand on the door latch awkwardly, not sure how to end the night. If it _was_ a date, he'd want to kiss Gerard. But it wasn't a date. Not officially, anyway. So he's not really sure what the protocol is here. 

Thankfully, Gerard breaks the silence. "I had a really nice time," he says. 

Frank smiles gratefully. "Me too. Thanks for taking me out." He tries to make it casual, like he's just slipping in the possibility that they could've been on a date this whole time. 

"Of course. Mikey says I really need more friends. And less lovers, apparently, so this works out. He's usually right." Gerard has a little smile on his face that looks like he's remembering an inside joke. It would be cute if Frank weren't convinced he's the butt of it. 

"Oh," Frank says, a bit stunned at such an obvious rejection, but he quickly recovers. "Yeah, totally. Friends, um, friends are good." _God, that was fucking lame_ , he thinks. "I'll see you around, then." 

"See you around, Frankie." 

As Frank gets out of the car, Gerard smiles at him again, soft and warm. He waits there against the curb with the engine running until Frank's front door is shut. Almost like you'd do after saying goodbye to a date. But it wasn't one. Officially. 

~ 

"Tell me again what he said." 

Frank sighs. "'Mikey says I really need more friends, and less lovers,'" Frank repeats. "Do _not_ tell me I'm overreacting." 

"I'm not, I'm not," Bert promises. He shuffles a bit in his chair, pulling it closer to the table in the staff lounge where he and Frank have been sitting for the past ten minutes. "Maybe he... didn't mean it that way?" Bert finishes weakly. 

"It's pretty fucking clear, dude. He's not looking for anything right now. Already got too many _lovers_ on his plate, I guess." 

"Well, I mean, what does Mikey know, really? It's probably bullshit." 

"He said they were close. Always have been. That's what he _said_. Mikey probably knows him better than anyone." Frank slumps back in his chair and stares dejectedly down at his half-empty mug of tea, wishing it were coffee. 

"Then why don't you ask him?" 

Frank looks up. "Ask who what?" 

"Mikey," Bert clarifies. "Why don't you ask him why Gerard needs less lovers." 

Frank gapes at him. "Are you kidding me? I'm just gonna waltz up to the reference desk and ask the guy who not only has been picking on us losers since we started working here, but is also the least likely person in the entire _world_ to cough up information on anyone ever, and expect that to go over well?" 

Bert shrugs, like it's no big deal to him. "You could probably find a way to ask without really asking." 

"What the fuck does _that_ mean," Frank says, but the idea is settling in his mind, and he realizes Bert might have a point. After a moment, he says, "Like ask around it?" 

"Yeah, sure. Pretend Jamia's interested in him or something," Bert suggests. "Though, you should probably get her permission to do that so she doesn't rip your balls off." 

Frank waves him off. "Yeah, yeah, I'll ask. But no one who knows her would believe she's interested in men.” 

Bert laughs. "She might kill you for this, man." 

"Maybe. But at least I'll know what the fuck is going on." 

~ 

He avoids asking Jamia for permission to use her in his plot to get to Gerard for a good three days before he cracks. He thought he'd be able to hold out longer, but the smiles he gets from Gerard every morning when he delivers coffee are too much to handle when he's in this limbo of not knowing what they mean, or what they have the potential to mean. So, he decides to corner her while she's on her break. Not his smartest idea, he'll admit, but it's the only time they're both available when no one else is around. Two minutes after Jamia gets up to take her ten, Frank pleads the same and then heads for the staff lounge. There, he finds Jamia alone, texting and snacking on a granola bar. 

"Hey, Jams," he greets her, plopping down in the seat across from her. "What's up?" 

She pauses her chewing and gives him a skeptical look. "What do you think you're doing, Iero?" 

_Fuck_ , he thinks. She's too sharp for him. "We can't just sit around and chat now, is that it? I thought we were friends." 

"We are friends. We're good enough of friends that I know your whole solitary break scheme, and that the only reason you'd be here talking to me is if you want something. So, what is it?" 

Frank sighs, defeated. "I need help. With Gee." 

"Gee?" 

"Gerard. I'm... I don't know what's going on." He recounts the past couple weeks: the flirting, the sort-of-date, all the relevant things they said to each other (and a few irrelevant ones when Frank gets sidetracked thinking about how cute Gerard is when he talks about, well, anything), and finally what Gerard told him when he dropped Frank off after the movie. "I need to ask Mikey some stuff to figure out what he meant," Frank finishes. 

"Okay... What do you need me for?" 

"I need to pretend like I'm asking about Gerard because someone else is interested in him." 

Jamia's mouth falls open. "I hope you're not proposing to go tell people I'm anything other than a huge fucking lesbian, Frank." 

"No one will believe it, I promise. I just need to fool Mikey into giving me info. Please, J? I need this." He gives her his best puppy dog eyes and sees the exact moment she cracks. 

"Fine," she says reluctantly, and then points a finger at his chest. "But as soon as this smooths over, you're telling Mikey I'm not interested in Gerard or any other man who might enjoy the gift of my presence." 

Frank barely hears her. He's too busy scheming. "Thank you!" He jumps up from the table and rounds it to give her a hug from behind and a kiss on the top of her head. "I love you. Have I told you I love you? You're the best." 

"Yeah, yeah," Jamia says, shaking him off. "Now get going, lover boy. I've got granola to eat." 

Frank leaves the break room feeling almost giddy, even though nothing's changed yet. But just knowing that he won't be in the dark about Gerard for much longer is relieving, even if it means knowing that Gerard isn't interested. He'd take that over being a total ignorant, lovesick fool. 

"Iero!" A voice calls from behind Frank as he's on his way back to the processing center. 

Frank turns around to see Brian having just stepped out of his office, tie askew and microwave lunch in hand. "Yeah, boss?" 

"Need to talk to you," Brian says before ducking back into his office. 

Frank's good mood evaporates immediately. _This can't be anything good_ , he thinks as he drags his feet to Brian's office door. 

"Close the door," Brian says. "Sit down, Frank." 

Frank complies, crossing one ankle over his knee and fidgeting with his hands. "Is something wrong, sir?" 

"Don't call me sir. It's weird," Brian says as he clicks away on his computer, his lunch forgotten on his desk. "And no. Everything's fine. But I have a few questions." 

"Shoot," Frank offers. 

Brian stops typing and meets Frank's eye. "Is something going on between Jamia and Lindsey?" 

Frank freezes. Even he's not sure of the answer to that question. "Like what?" He asks. 

"Like, are they dating?" 

Frank shakes his head. "Not as far as I know." 

Brian nods and looks down at some of the paperwork in front of him. "Lindsey's being transferred. To processing." 

Frank just barely keeps his jaw from dropping. He coughs awkwardly to cover up his surprise. "What?" 

Brian sighs and looks at him again. "She's a great fucking ref lib, but she wants to do processing, apparently, and the rest of the lib crew will be fine. She'll start training soon and be transferred entirely in a couple weeks." 

"What does this have to do with Jamia?" Frank asks, not sure why Brian is telling him all this. Not sure if Brian is even _allowed_ to tell him all this. 

"I wanted to make sure there weren't any conflicts of interest before the decision was final. If Jamia were part of the reason Lindsey wanted to transfer, I would be less likely to okay it." Brian rubs a hand over his face. "They're both professionals, and I wouldn't expect anything like this to happen, but I wouldn't want to put either of them in the position of being uncomfortable working back there together if there was a break up, for example." 

"Oh." Frank hadn't really gotten that far. He was kind of stuck on the fact that he'll have to be working with Lindsey fucking Ballato all the time now. "Um. Well, I don't think anything's going on." He almost accidentally adds "sir" at the end before clamping his mouth shut instead. 

"Good. Thank you for your time, Frank," Brian says, and Frank takes that as his cue to leave. 

"Have a good day, Brian," Frank says, but the only response he gets is the clacking of Brian's keyboard. 

~ 

If Frank is being honest, it's not just that the reference librarians are assholes, it's that they scare the shit out of him. Mikey especially. Which is kind of ridiculous because Frank knows he could kick the guy's skinny ass, but that's not really an option when you work at a library together. Here, Mikey wins in intimidation because of his standing as head reference librarian, and because he's Brian's favorite. Something about being the only responsible employee in the place. Ray is second only because he sometimes gets caught up in the processing staff's shenanigans. 

But right now, Frank has one up on Mikey. Frank has a plan. And he is going to use that plan to trick Mikey into giving him information about the guy he is quickly falling for. Who is unfortunately Mikey's brother. God, he still can't get past that. 

At the moment, Mikey is sitting at the reference desk with his nose buried in a magazine. He's leaned back so far in his seat he might as well have his feet up on the counter. Frank darts a glance around the lobby, still not used to being out in the open rather than taking the back hallways he always does. Cautiously, he walks to the reference desk and waits for Mikey to notice him. 

He doesn't. 

"Um," Frank starts. "Mikey?" 

"Yeah," Mikey says, his face still hidden behind the magazine. 

"I need to talk to you." 

Mikey sighs and slowly lowers the magazine. He gives Frank a pointed look, like whatever's written in Star this week is way more important than anything Frank could have to say. 

"I have a few questions. About Gerard," Frank clarifies. 

That gets Mikey's attention. He sits up in his chair a bit and straightens his glasses. "What do you want to know?" 

"Well... A friend of mine in processing – Jamia – she's kind of interested in him. She wants me to ask you about him. If he's dating anyone, for example." 

Mikey considers, looking at Frank closely. For a moment there, Frank is sure Mikey knows he's lying, but then he says, "Gee's not dating anyone as far as I know. But he should. He's lonely as fuck and hasn't dated in about a million years." Mikey pauses, and Frank mulls over what he's just said. His brain kind of feels like it's exploding. Mikey goes on, "But he won't be interested in your friend." 

"Why's that?" Frank would be on the edge of his seat if he were sitting down. As it is, he's just leaning forward as far as he can without making it look weird. 

"He's not really into women," Mikey says like it's no big deal. Like it doesn't make Frank have to try very, very hard not to jump up with his fist in the air. 

Instead, Frank says, "Oh," as calmly as he can. "I'll let her know, then. Thanks, Mikey." 

Mikey's already returned to his magazine. "Don't mention it." 

Frank walks back to the processing area with a spring in his step. He almost can't believe it: Gerard is gay _and_ Mikey thinks he needs to start dating again. Which is odd, considering Gerard told him Mikey said the exact opposite. But Gerard is _gay_ and _lonely_ , and Frank is ecstatic about both of those things. Well, he's not happy Gerard is lonely, but he _is_ happy that maybe he can be the one to fix that. 

"Jamia!" Frank immediately pulls her aside once he's in the processing center. "Guess what?" 

Jamia seems unamused, but she plays along. "What?" 

"Gerard is gay!" 

"Oh, Frankie, that's great news that surprises exactly no one. But will he date you, is the question." 

"Mikey said he thinks Gerard should start dating again." 

"Mikey said what?" Bert asks. Frank's not sure where he came from, but he's certainly here now. "Didn't you tell me he said, like, the antithesis of that?" 

"Gerard told me he did. But... I don't know. Obviously, that's not what Mikey thinks." And right about then is when the worry sinks. There must be a reason for Gerard telling him that, and after exploring a multitude of options, the only one that seems to make any sense is that Gerard doesn't want to date Frank, and he's using the disapproving brother as a cop out. "Maybe he..." Frank doesn't really know where to go with that, so he trails off. 

"Maybe Mikey used to feel that way, but he doesn't anymore," Jamia offers. 

"Maybe," Frank says. But now the idea has solidified in his mind: Gerard isn't interested in him. He's so completely not interested that he feels like he has to lie about it instead of being straight with him. The relief Frank had felt at finally knowing what Gerard thinks of him already seems naïve, and his good mood evaporates as quickly as it arrived. "I gotta think about it," he says, even though that's sort of the last thing he wants to do. 

Jamia and Bert let him go. He feels them watching him as he heads to his work station, methodically mending the books that have been left for him there. He keeps his mind decidedly blank while he works, not focusing on anything other than the books in his hands. After a while, they all blur together, and he can forget that Gerard Way even exists. 

~ 

The first day Frank doesn't bring Gerard his morning coffee, Gerard doesn’t even seem to notice. Frank simply doesn't stop by Special Collections on the way to his station, and Gerard doesn't come by to check in on him. He doesn't see Gerard at all that day, and figures maybe he's not at work. He didn't hear about any schedule changes, but he’s not about to go ask. So, Frank buckles down and tries to forget that he ever knew Gerard's work schedule. 

The second day, Frank pauses outside the rare book room, but he doesn't knock and he doesn't go in. But he knows Gerard is here today because he overheard Ray saying he had a meeting with the Provost about teaching another class in the fall, this one more demanding as it’ll be for upper division students. Frank kind of wants to go comfort Gerard and wish him luck, but his pride prevents him from following through. It would hurt too much to know that he was still offering moral support to the guy who couldn't even be honest about not liking him. 

It's harder to forget about Gerard that day. Frank keeps thinking about the meeting: when it'll start, what might be said, if Gerard will do that thing where he talks way too fast and has to repeat himself about seven times which will make him feel like a total loser and definitely mean he's in need of a hug. By the end of the day, Frank hasn't heard anything about the meeting or about Gerard, and when he leaves the library for the night, his shoulders slump down and his head hangs low. 

On the third day, Frank doesn't quite get away with it. As he's passing by Special Collections, the door opens and Gerard pops out. 

"Frankie!" He says happily. 

"Oh." Frank stops in his tracks, not really sure what to do. "Hey, Gerard." 

"Sorry I don't have coffee for you this morning. Been really busy." 

"It's okay," Frank say immediately, and shows Gerard his empty hands. "I don't have any either." 

"Hmm." Gerard stands with his head the doorway, but he's not looking at Frank, instead his eyes are trained somewhere on the wall next to him. "Did you hear about the meeting yesterday?" He asks finally. 

"Yeah," Frank says. "It go well?" 

"Yeah, if 'well' mean's I'll be teaching an eight A.M. class next semester." He's got one of those half-deprecating grimaces on his face, and Frank only just manages not to go and hug him. 

"Sorry, dude. That sucks." Really, Frank mostly feels jealous. He'd love to work closely with the students, teach them the importance of caring for books and the magic that can be found in old volumes, even if it was early in the morning. "Good luck." 

Frank turns to go, but Gerard stops him. "Frank?" 

Frank turns back around. "Yeah?" 

"Um." Gerard looks awkward, especially so because Frank can still only see his head. "Are you avoiding me?" 

Frank knows he looks shocked, but it's not at the accusation (he _has_ been avoiding Gerard), it's at the fact that Gerard even noticed. "No," he lies. "No, I've just been... really busy." 

Gerard nods. "Okay, yeah. Me too. Let's hang out sometime soon, though, yeah?" 

"Yeah, totally," Frank says, and he knows that's a lie too because there's no way he can hang out with Gerard now without wanting to die of embarrassment afterwards. 

"Cool. Have a good one." Gerard leaves Frank with one last smile and the ducks back into the rare book room. 

"Fuck," Frank says to himself as he heads to the back of the building. "Fucking fuckity fuck." 

~ 

He manages to avoid Gerard for another four days before it comes back to bite him. And boy, does it bite hard. 

He's minding his own business at his work bench when Jepha approaches him. It's odd to see Jepha without Quinn, and he looks more uncomfortable than he's probably ever felt as he sidles up to Frank's desk. 

"Hey, Frank?" he asks timidly. 

"Um." Frank sets aside the book he'd been mending and gives Jepha his attention. "Yeah?" 

"You should maybe... take your lunch in here today. Or something," Jepha says while firmly staring at his shoes. 

Frank balks at him. "Why?" 

"Mikey's mad. At you, I think. He yelled at Quinn for not knowing where you were when he asked. Well, he didn't yell. Because he doesn't really do that. But it was worse than yelling, the way he did it." 

"Why would Mikey be looking for me?" 

Jepha glances up at Frank nervously. "I don't know. But steer clear of him, okay? I don't want you to get in trouble." 

"Yeah. Thanks, Jeph." 

Jepha nods and slinks away. Frank tries to go back to work but he can't quite manage it. Frank doesn't think he's ever seen Mikey upset. Even when he's annoyed or frustrated, he doesn't get mad and he doesn’t do anything even close to yelling. After a while of just staring down at the damaged books on his desk, Frank decides he might as well face the music. If Mikey gets him fired, maybe he can find a better, cooler academic library that'll actually let him work with the public. 

Yeah, right. 

He calls out that he's taking his lunch and heads out the back hallway towards the staff lounge. No one stops him. Most likely, no one even notices he's left. When he the hallway converges with one that leads out to the lobby, Frank pauses. He considers going to see if Mikey is at the ref desk, seething and cursing Frank's name, but just the thought has him heading in the other direction. So much for courage. 

In the staff lounge, Frank finds an array of tools lying next to the still-broken coffee machine. Someone obviously was having yet another go at fixing it. Who knows, maybe it would actually work someday. 

He grabs a soda from the fridge, not caring who it actually belongs to, and plops down at one of the tables. The lounge is empty, and usually that comforts him, but right now it feels too silent, like there should be someone else there telling him to buck up and go face Mikey or Gerard or whoever else. 

When the door bursts open a moments later, Frank curses himself for not appreciating the quiet. 

"You," a voice says from behind Frank. He turns in his chair to see Mikey standing in the doorway, looking thunderous. "You are a fucking asshole." 

"Okay," Frank says. He's not about to argue when Mikey's right. 

Mikey walks to Frank's table, the door to the lounge swinging shut behind him, and sits across from Frank. "What are you doing," he says. It's not phrased as a question, but Frank attempts to answer him anyway. 

"Drinking," Frank looks at the can he's holding, "diet Sprite?" 

Mikey ignores him. "With my brother. What are you doing with him." 

"I- Well, I dunno. We're friends, I guess." 

"Friends," Mikey repeats, and Frank nods. Mikey sits back in his chair and considers for a moment. Then, he says, "Have you always been this stupid and I just didn't notice?" 

"Excuse me?" Being called an asshole, Frank can deal with, but stupid is a whole other ballgame. He's not stupid. He's just... kind of a dumbass sometimes. There's a difference. 

"He doesn't want to be _friends_ , you idiot," Mikey clarifies. 

"Uh, yeah, he does. He made that pretty clear." Frank pauses, remembers his cover. "Plus, I wouldn't do that to Jamia." 

"Jamia's a lesbian," Mikey says simply, like he knew the entire time. 

Oh. "Yeah," Frank admits. 

"I know you were asking for yourself. And I told you what I think. So why the fuck haven't you done anything about it?" 

Frank understands that Gerard and Mikey are close, but he doesn't exactly appreciate Mikey meddling in his and Gerard's personal relationship. "Listen, he doesn't want me like that. He said so. And I'd like it very much if you stepped off my throat about it." 

Mikey completely ignores the last part of that and barrels on with, "What did he actually say to you?" 

Frank blanches, and then realizes that Gerard didn't _actually_ tell him he wasn't interested, but he did as good as. "He said you told him he should have more friends and less lovers. Which is why I asked you what you thought." Mikey's facial expression doesn't change, so Frank goes on, "He was lying to let me down easy, I guess." 

Mikey stares for another moment before pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger and leaning back farther in his chair. "I was wrong. You're _both_ stupid." 

"Hey!" Frank starts, but Mikey waves him off. 

"He's more stupid than you are at the moment. I told him he needs more lovers who are _also_ his friends. Gerard has a habit of dating people he doesn't actually get along with. Never works very well." 

"Oh," Frank says. "So... This is all a big misunderstanding between him and I?" 

"By the way he's been talking my ear off about you for the past month and a half, I'd say so, yeah. And he’s been fucking miserable this past week since you haven’t even talked to him.” 

Frank is dumbstruck for a moment, taking in the possibility that this entire time Gerard _had_ liked him back. "But..." Frank says, worry seeping into his voice, "why wouldn't he go out with me anyway? I mean, no offense, but if I really liked someone I would go for it no matter what anyone else says." 

Mikey leans forward and places his hands on the table in front of them, leveling Frank with a very serious look. "Gerard has had a very, _very_ long history of nasty breakups. And I've been there for every single one of them. Being the only one of us in a happy, stable relationship, Gerard takes my advice on the subject very seriously." 

Frank nods, intimidated but not about to let it show. "Good to know." 

"Sometimes," Mikey continues, "he takes it a little _too_ seriously. Or thinks I'm saying something I'm not." He sits back again, releasing Frank from his scrutinizing gaze, and Frank feels like he can finally breathe again. "I think you could be good for him." 

"Oh," Frank says dumbly. "Um. Thank you." 

Mikey is silent for another few moments until he says, "I'll talk to him." 

"Thanks." 

Mikey gets up from the table and walks towards the door. A moment later, the door swings open, but Mikey pauses and says, "Frank." Frank turns to look at him. "Sorry for picking on you so much. And lying about the coffee machine being fixed sometimes. You're pretty cool for a processing guy." 

Before Frank can say anything, Mikey is gone, and Frank is alone again. 

~ 

At this point, Frank has no idea what to do with himself. He's practically bouncing off the walls with the possibility that once Mikey talks to Gerard, they might actually get to _date_. But he doesn't know when Mikey will say anything or how long Gerard will take to make up his mind or if Gerard even really likes him back, especially after avoiding him for over a week. It's all up in the air, and it's kind of killing him. 

He tries to pass the time by distracting himself with his work friends. Worm gets a paper football elimination tournament going, and while Frank would usually stay out of it and just watch, he ends up participating and goes head-to-head with Bert in the last round. 

"Your ass is grass, Frankie," Bert says, grinning like a maniac. 

"You wish." They're tied, and Frank has one goal left to win. He's about to take the shot when the staff room door swings open. 

It's Gerard, standing in the doorway and panting like he's just run a mile. Frank's finger moves on its own accord, flicking out and sending the piece of paper careening off to the side, missing worm's fingers entirely. Bert cheers. Frank cannot bring himself to care one bit. 

"Gerard," Frank says, rising to his feet. 

Gerard waves, still trying to catch his breath. Frank slowly walks to his side, not sure why Gerard is here and if it's good or bad. Finally, Gerard stands upright and says, "Hey." 

"Hey." 

"Um," Gerard starts. He glances around the room. Bert has stopped celebrating and has now joined everyone else in staring at the two of them. If Frank's not mistaken, there's a bit of a hopeful gleam in Jamia's eye. Everyone else just look confused. Gerard turns back to Frank just has Frank turns back to him, and their eyes meet. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like I didn't like you. Like that, I mean. That I didn't like you like that." 

"Like what?" Frank asks, though he's pretty sure he knows, he just doesn't want to get his hopes up. 

"Like..." Gerard takes another step forward. "Like this." Very slowly, Gerard leans in and presses his lips to Frank's. 

A few cheers ring out from the crowd behind them, Bert's wolf whistle being the loudest, but Frank can't bring himself to care one bit. He focuses on kissing Gerard soft and sweet, bringing his hand up to cup his cheek. 

When they part, Gerard is bright pink. "Um, so, yeah," Gerard says. "Like that." 

Frank smirks. "Like this?" And he kisses Gerard again, because he can't not. 

This kiss is shorter, but Gerard takes longer to open his eyes once it's over. "Yeah. That." 

"Would you wanna..." Gerard's eyes drop back down to Frank's lips, and Frank licks them deliberately, feeling Gerard shudder a little bit when he sees it. Gerard shakes his head and steps back a little. "Would you wanna go out again? For real this time?" 

Frank breaks into a huge grin. "Yes. Completely and totally yes." 

"Would you two get a room?" Jamia says. Frank looks over to see her smiling wide. Everyone else looks about the same, Quinn and Jepha look a little bit like they're at a wedding, holding each other comically and trying to keep the other from crying. 

"When does your shift end?" Gerard asks, bringing Frank's attention back to him. 

"Um. I'm off at six today." 

Gerard beams. "Me too. You free?" 

"Yes. I have nothing to do ever again except go out with you for the rest of my life." He hopes he's not coming on too strong, but it's the truth. 

Gerard just giggles. "Okay. Then I'll, um, see you then. I guess." 

"Yeah. See you." 

Gerard hesitates for a moment before stepping forward and kissing Frank on the cheek. "See you," he says again. And then he's gone, as quickly as he'd come. 

Frank collapses back against the door and just breathes for a moment. Bert comes up to him and claps him on the shoulder, saying something about not having to hear about Frank's dry spell anymore. Jamia wrinkles her nose at Bert but pats Frank on the shoulder as well. 

"I'm happy for you, dude," she says. 

"Thanks, Jams," Frank says when he can speak again. 

Just then someone pushes through the door and Frank falls forward. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Says whoever just rudely snapped him out of his stupor. 

"It's cool," Frank says, standing up straight again. And then he sees who it is. "Oh." 

"Hi, everyone," Lindsey greets them. "I'm here to start processing training!" 

"What?" Jamia says. She seems confused along with everyone else. Besides Frank, that is. "Processing?" 

"Yeah, I'm transferring," Lindsey explains. "If you all will have me." 

There's some grumbling from the staff, but no out-right objections. Frank can't blame them for their apprehension. He really, really is not looking forward to working with the expert trickster that is Lindsey all day every day. Jamia, however, seems perfectly content with the change. 

"Wow! We'll get work together now," she says happily. "But... why?" 

Lindsey takes a step closer to Jamia. Frank seems to be the only one paying attention to them now, the rest of the processing staff having gone back to doing anything but what they're supposed to, for once. 

"I, well," Lindsey starts. "I wanted to be closer to you." 

Frank stares wide eyed as Jamia takes a step of her own. Maybe Brian's worries weren't unfounded. 

"Really? You did this for me?" Jamia sounds over the fucking moon about it. Frank can't quite believe his ears. Jamia. _His_ Jamia, crushing on the woman who'd made their lives hell. Well, Lindsey never bothered Jamia, and now Frank is figuring out why. 

"Well, not just you. I like it back here. And I want to be part of what brings the books into the library. But... a lot of it was you," Lindsey says. 

"I'm- _Linds_ _,_ this is..." 

"I don't want to freak you out or anything," Lindsey cuts in. 

"No! I'm just-" Jamia laughs disbelievingly. "I'm amazed." 

"So, you're okay with it, then?" 

"Yes!" Jamia grabs one of Lindsey's hands. "I am more than okay with this." 

Lindsey steps forward into Jamia's space and leans in, softly kissing Jamia on the mouth. Frank takes that as his cue to leave, which he probably should've done five minutes ago. 

He spends the rest of the afternoon watching the clock and waiting for six to roll around, barely pretending to be doing anything productive. At six on the dot he's out the door, heading straight for the rare book room. He turns the corner and nearly slams right into Gerard, who was heading in towards Processing. 

"Frankie!" Gerard says. "You ready to go?" 

"More than I ever have been," Frank says, really meaning it. 

They make it out to the staff parking lot before Frank realizes they don't really have a plan. "Um," he says. "Where are we going?" 

"Oh." Gerard pauses outside his car, which is conveniently parked right next to Frank's beater. "I hadn't really thought about it." 

Frank looks up at the California summer sky. It's hot today, nearing ninety. "Yogurtland?" He suggests. 

"Yogurtland," Gerard agrees. 

They take Gerard's car, stopping at the first location they see and heading inside. Frank grins at Gerard over his odd combination of fruit flavored yogurt topped with gummy bears, and Gerard grins right back. They don't say much as they work their way through their dessert, mostly just smiling at each other and laughing at nothing. When both their bowls are empty, they sit in silence for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. 

"Um," Gerard says finally. "Do you wanna come to my place and hang out?" 

Frank's mind jumps forward about a hundred steps to all the possibilities "hanging out" could have in store. Most of them are not things he should be thinking about in a family dining establishment. "Yeah, totally," he says. 

Gerard blasts the Ramones on their way over to his apartment and Frank sings along at full volume. Gerard joins in with the singing after a little while and Frank couldn't wipe the smile off his face if someone paid him to do it. They’re not even to the _hanging out_ bit and he's already having a fucking spectacular time. 

At Gerard's apartment building, he leads them up a narrow flight of stairs to the third floor and unlocks the door marked 342. 

"Well," Gerard says as they cross the threshold, "this is it." 

Frank takes in the place with awe. On nearly every surface are comic books, action figures, movies, pieces of art in various mediums, and there are still five very heavy looking boxes stacked in the corner of the living room. 

"Still not all the way moved in," Gerard explains. "But it's been a couple months so I probably really should be." 

"Holy shit, dude," is all Frank can say. He walks to the coffee table in the living room and picks up a copy of The Invisibles. He flips through the first few pages and sees that it's signed. By Grant fucking Morrison. "Are you kidding me." 

Gerard laughs. "Grant's a really cool guy," he says. 

Frank puts the book down before he does something like try to steal it. "I can't believe you have all this stuff," he says, looking around the room again. "You're even cooler than I thought." 

Gerard laughs again, awkwardly this time, and Frank looks over to see he's turned bright pink. "It's just stuff I've collected over the years. No big deal." 

"I think you and I have very different ideas about what is and is not a big deal," Frank teases. Near the TV he finds Nosferatu on VHS. "Can we watch this?" He asks hopefully. 

"Totally. Pop it in, I'll go get some blankets." 

Frank turns on the TV and slides the tape home, then settles on the couch and waits for Gerard to come back. He returns with about a hundred quilts and comforters, and Frank is grateful Gerard understands the importance of blankets for TV watching even when it's hot outside. 

The two of them get settled on the couch, Frank sitting farther than he would like to from Gerard, but he's not sure how close he's allowed to get yet. The movie starts and, even though it's one of Frank's favorites, he can't pay attention for the life of him. It's just like the movie theater all over; Gerard's movements and body language seem way more important than anything that's happening on the screen, especially now that the two of them are curled up under a blanket together and not sitting in separate chairs in public. 

After a while, Frank notices that he and Gerard have drifted closer and closer as the movie has gone on. When it started, there was a good six inches of space between them, but now their arms and legs are touching and Frank is this close to leaning his head on Gerard's shoulder. 

Instead, he turns to see Gerard looking at him. 

Gerard doesn't say anything, but Frank doesn't need him to. They both lean towards each other at the same moment and meet in the middle with a warm kiss. Frank reaches up and wraps a hand around the back of Gerard's head, carding his hand through Gerard’s soft hair. The blanket pools in their laps as Gerard moves closer as well, his hand sliding to Frank's side. It feels like it's burning him, all hot, desperate energy, but the kiss is still closed-mouthed and sweet. Frank's not exactly sure why they haven't changed that yet. 

He opens up for Gerard, offering more of himself, and Gerard accepts. While the synchronized slide of their tongues is erotic, it's comforting more than anything. They’ve made it here, even when Frank was so convinced they never would. 

The hand on Frank's side shifts onto the couch as Gerard leans over, pushing Frank farther back into the cushions. Frank goes with it, letting Gerard nearly climb into his lap, and suddenly everything seems a whole lot more intense. The feeling of Gerard's mouth on his is intoxicating, and Frank can't help the slide of his hand down Gerard's chest, reveling in the full-body shudder he gets in return. Bringing his other hand up, Frank unbuttons Gerard's shirt starting from the bottom. It's difficult to do without looking but there's no way he could tear himself away right now. 

Gerard eagerly drops his shirt onto the floor behind him once Frank gets the buttons undone, and then they do have to part for a moment when Gerard lifts his under shirt over his head. 

Frank takes a moment to drag his eyes over Gerard's smooth, pale chest and stomach, all the way down to the hair that disappears beneath his slacks, just begging Frank to touch. 

"Enjoying the view?" Gerard asks teasingly. 

Frank nods. "You shouldn’t bother with clothes. No one would complain." 

Gerard laughs and moves to properly straddle Frank's thighs. "I'm not sure what Brian would have to say about that." 

"No," Frank says as he brings his hands up to Gerard's hips. "He'd want you all to himself." He leans forward and sucks a nipple into his mouth, making Gerard sigh. 

"Maybe I should just get naked in front of you, then," Gerard says. "No one else." 

Frank lets go of Gerard's nipple and meets his eye. "You mean it?" 

"Mean what?" 

"Like, being together?" Frank clarifies. 

"Frankie, if you're not gonna be my boyfriend after all this then we're gonna have a problem," Gerard says with a smirk. 

"Nope, no problem. No problem at all." 

Gerard's smile widens and he bends down to capture Frank's lips. They’re both grinning too big to do much more than clack teeth, but Frank appreciates it anyway. He feels fingers at the hem of his t-shirt and pulls away so Gerard can bring it up over his head. Then, it's Gerard's turn to look. 

"God, you're covered..." Gerard trails off as he traces his fingers over the ink on Frank's chest. "So fucking beautiful." 

Gerard slides off Frank's lap to kneel on the floor between his knees. Frank has to bite back a moan at the anticipation of where this may be leading. When he gets to the birds on Frank's hips, Gerard pauses. He examines each one closely before placing kisses on either side, making Frank shiver and suck in a breath. 

"Fuck, Gee," Frank says. 

Gerard doesn't reply, just glides his fingers down to Frank's pants and starts working on the fly. Frank eagerly helps him along, lifting his hips to get them down and out of the way. Slowly, meticulously, _teasingly_ , Gerard pushes Frank's pants down to his ankles and then stops to untie his shoes. Finally, Gerard takes Frank's pants all the way off and begins moving back up his body, placing kisses here and there: his shin, the side of his knee, his thigh just below the hem of his boxers. 

"You're gorgeous, Frank," Gerard says, his gaze locked on Frank's. 

"I- Um. Thank you," Frank says, not really sure how to respond. 

Gerard rests his hands on Frank's thighs and sits back on his heels. "Is this..." He starts. "Am I moving too fast?" 

Frank shakes his head as vehemently as he can. "No. Definitely not. Please move faster, I'm dying here." 

Gerard huffs a laugh. "Okay, good, because I really, really don’t want to stop." With that, he slides his hands up to the top of Frank's boxers and pulls them off, leaving Frank completely naked on the couch. "Gorgeous," he says again, this time to Frank's cock. 

And, okay, Frank kind of thinks his cock is nice too, but it's fucking incredible hearing it from Gerard's mouth. Almost as incredible as Gerard wrapping that mouth around Frank's dick and sucking like he wants to do it for the rest of his damn life. 

Frank moans, loud and long, and tangles his hands in Gerard's hair, trying not to pull too much. As Gerard bobs his head, it gets harder and harder to hang on loosely, and his hips desperately want to buck. After a couple of minutes, Gerard pulls off and replaces his mouth with his hand. 

"You can pull my hair, you know. I like that. And you can fuck my mouth if you want, too." 

"Oh my God," Frank says with feeling. "Where the hell have you been all my life?" 

Gerard laughs, an honest to God twinkle in his eye, and then sinks back down on Frank's cock. Frank threads his fingers tighter in Gerard's hair and tugs, directing Gerard up to the head of his dick. Gerard moans and closes his eyes, sucking so hard Frank already feels like he's about to lose it. He hangs on, because he wants so badly to make good on the second part of Gerard's promise. 

Holding onto Gerard firmly, Frank cants his hips up, cautiously at first. Gerard's eyes fly open and focus on Frank's, pupils blown wide. Frank moves faster, each thrust deeper than the last. And Gerard just _takes_ it, not gagging even when Frank's cock nudges the back of his throat. Frank holds out for another few thrusts before he's tugging on Gerard's hair in warning, unable to form words or make any noise that isn't a moan or harsh breathing. 

But Gerard doesn't pull off. Instead, he strains against Frank's grip to slide all the way down to the base of his cock, swallowing him down. He stays there, swallowing again and again until Frank comes down his throat with a yell. Gerard pulls up to the head and milks Frank through it, to the point that he's stinging with oversensitivity, and only then does Gerard let him go. 

"That was... Fuck. Jesus Christ, Gerard," Frank says, breathless. 

"I try," Gerard jokes, as if he hasn't just given Frank the best orgasm he's had in years. 

"Get up here. I'll-" Frank tugs Gerard into his lap and quickly undoes the fly of his slacks and pushes them down his thighs. "Fuck, why are you still wearing clothes?" 

"Not – ahh – not sure," Gerard says as Frank wraps a hand around his cock. "Don't care. Don't fucking stop." 

Gerard is hot and leaking in Frank's hand, and he pumps his cock hard and fast, watching his face contort and relax and contort again in pleasure. It's fucking beautiful. 

"Come on, Gee. Fuck, you're so hard. I can feel how fucking close you are," Frank says. 

Gerard groans, thrusting his cock into Frank's grip. A moment later, he stills and comes, shooting over Frank's chest and stomach. Frank doesn't stop until he's done, and then he finally lets go, Gerard slumping forward onto his chest and smearing the mess between them. Frank really can't bring himself to care. 

They breathe hard together for a few minutes, chests bumping as they rise and fall. Finally, Gerard rolls off Frank to sit beside him, his pants bunching up awkwardly around his thighs. Frank looks down at his chest, and finally the mess _does_ bother him. 

"Hey," Frank says. "You wanna take a shower?" 

Gerard looks at him and grins. "Ya know, anyone in my family would tell you that my usual answer to that question is no, but for you I think I'll make an exception." 

Frank laughs. "Well, I'm glad you don't make a habit of showering with your family." 

"Shut up." Gerard gets up and strips his pants off, leaving them in a pile on the floor as he heads out of the living room and offering Frank a great view of his ass. "You comin'?" He calls. 

"Yeah, yep, totally." Frank drags himself off the couch and follows. 

They jerk each other off again in the shower. Apparently, Frank's dry spell has done wonders for his refractory period, even at nearly thirty years of age. When they get out, Gerard offers him a set of spare pajamas, without Frank even having to ask if he can stay the night. 

Later, Gerard orders pizza and they eat it while finishing the parts of Nosferatu they missed and then moving on to Dracula and then Dracula's Daughter, making it a vampire movie marathon. Gerard keeps cracking jokes, about the old-timey special effects or the silly dialogue. Frank doesn't think he's laughed so much in his life. They finally crash out in Gerard's bed around one in the morning, thankful that it's Friday and neither of them work weekends. 

Frank wakes to the hiss of something frying in the kitchen and he lets his nose lead the way. He finds Gerard making pancakes, looking so damn domestic Frank almost can't stand it. 

"Good morning!" Gerard says when he notices Frank. "Sleep well?" 

"Fuck, better than I have in ages," Frank says truthfully. 

Gerard hands him a plate with a pile of pancakes on it and then goes about fixing his own, pouring two mugs of coffee while he's at it. They sit at Gerard's breakfast bar and eat and talk about nothing and everything and Frank thinks maybe this is what he's been looking for. Not a promotion, not a better working environment, though those things would be nice, but a connection with someone that makes all those other things bearable. Makes them worth it. 

"I'm really glad I met you," Gerard says suddenly. 

Frank pauses, his fork in mid-air. "Me too," he says. 

~ Two weeks later ~ 

"Hey, Frank?" Brian says, stopping Frank mid-sentence. 

He's been training Lindsey on processing for the past few hours. She's not so bad, once you get to know her, especially when they can talk about how great Jamia is. 

"Yeah, boss?" he says. He follows Brian over to a secluded corner. "What's up?" 

"I was wondering, now that we've got Lindsey in processing, we don't need so many people on the team," Brian says. 

"What do you mean?" Frank asks, terrified that he's about to be fired. 

"How would you like to work on mending fulltime?" 

Frank pauses, shocked. "Um. I'd be interested. But we don't get enough repairs for me to make a job out of it." 

"I know," Brian goes on. "That's why I was thinking you could work in Special Collections on some of the books in there that need work. Gerard could use an assistant, and it would be really great to add mending to the Book Arts curriculum for the fall." 

"Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa. You want me to work with Gerard?" 

"Yeah," Brian says. "And teach with him, if you're up for it." 

Frank's jaw drops. "Teach? Like with students?" 

"Yes, Frank, that is how teaching works. Are you in?" 

Frank takes another moment to pull himself together, and then says, "Yeah. When do I start?" 

"You can start now, actually," Brian says. "Jamia can finish training Lindsey. Just take the books that need mending and head over to Special Collections." 

That throws Frank again, but he recovers more quickly this time. "Yes, sir." He gathers up his stuff, ignoring Brian’s call of “Don’t call me that!” and speed walks to the rare book room. He pushes open the door, excited to see Gerard even though it's only been a couple hours since they exchanged coffees that morning. 

At the sound of the door closing, Gerard looks up from his desk. "Frankie!" He says. "What are you doing here?" 

Frank plops his pile of books down in front of Gerard. He grins. "I'm here to stay," he says. 

"You're serious?" says Gerard. 

"Effective immediately, I am your fancy book mender extraordinaire." 

"I'm- Frank," Gerard starts, "is this a good time for me to tell you that I love you?" 

Frank welcomes the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest with open arms. He leans over Gerard's desk, kisses him, and says, "I'll love you until the coffee machine works." 

End. 


End file.
